Bound By Fate v20
by soveryconfused27
Summary: Hermione and Draco are cursed on the Hogwarts train, and now cannot spend more than 5 minutes apart! Harry unusually upset, Draco unusually not like himself. Why? DMHG pairing. M for later chapters.
1. 01 Rough Beginnings

Disclaimer: Now pay attention, kiddies, cuz I'm only going to say this once. I do not own any Harry Potter characters you read of below. Chances are if you're reading Harry Potter fanfiction, you know which are Harry Potter characters and which are not. Later one I will introduce a band that I will call something like "Berlin Wohnung" which means Berlin Apartment, which sounds similar to Tokio Hotel, no? Well I love them and thought (because I seem to do this with ALL my stories, bad I know) I'll give a shout out to my older self once I marry the lead singer who, yes, looks like a girl but is sooo shmexy.

ANYWAY. I tend to only post stories I know I'll finish (with the exception of BBF v1.0, which was amazingly like my first FF, which sucked. Go read it now so you can fully appreaciate my writing now, four to five years later. The only reason why I am posting the first four chapters at once is because I want to get this up as soon as possible now that I know that I will finish it. It is my first story where I have not made up any new characters (except for Charlie, who so far is the only new character) and havent completely sucked the life out of all HP fans who read it. People actually like this one. Wheee. I do not have the entire story planned out, so if I tell you later that I have edited something, please go back and reread what i have edited because I like to edit drastically :

This story takes place 7th year, pretending that Half-Blood Prince had never happened (technically I thought of this before it was released so THERE.) I do add comments and shout outs, and if you review me with nice things (or mean things, as long as they are well thought out and can benefit me in some way) I'll pretty much love you forever and will most likely read your stuff too : x3 Katherine

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1 Rough Beginnings

Hermione Granger hugged her mom, a small tear falling out of the corner of her eye. "Don't worry, Mum," she said, a weak smile crossing her face. "At least this will be the last time" Her mother and father both chuckled and hugged their daughter one last time. They let go, stood a moment in silence. Then, in a tiny moment, their daughter of 17 years slipped past the barrier of Platform 9 ¾ and out of sight.  
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A shiver ran up his spine. It was cold. And damp. The limo was empty with the exception of a bright-blonde-haired boy of 6'1" with an iPod and a scowl. He stretched his leg out on his seat and scrolled through the black gadget, saying a silent goodbye to it, as iPod and other such electronics were not allowed at his school. He felt the car slow and looked out the window. He sighed, wrapped the headphones around the mp3 player, and scooted towards the driver's seat.

"Hey Charlie, take care of 'er for me, alright?"

"I'll put her back in his master's room sir." Draco, the blonde haired boy, sighed.

"How long have we known each other Charlie?"

"I've been working with the Malfoys since before you were born, sir." Charlie's eyes smiled brightly as he looked back on the memories he had with the Malfoys. He was old, and had worked for them a long time. Truthfully, the family was horrid and Aurors were on his case non-stop, but the opportunity to see Draco grow up, truly grow up, was worth every minute with those nasty Death Eaters.

Draco nodded. He scooted out the back of the limo and walked behind to the trunk. Charlie opened it, and Draco got his trunks out quickly so Charlie wouldn't hurt himself trying to help. "The Last Time," Draco said quietly when he was ready to leave.

"It's been a pleasure, sir." Draco smiled at the old driver.

"It has, Charlie." Draco pulled the old man into a hug, not surprised as Charlie at his sudden exhibition of affection. "Thanks Charlie. Thank you for me, for listening to me and for…" Draco's mind trailed off to places his body rejected.

"You're welcome sir. And if I might say, you might have helped me more than I helped you."

"Honestly, I doubt it. I'll see you this Summer Charlie."

"I'll be here. King's Cross, June 21!" Draco waved one last time before entering the train station and making way to Platform 9 ¾.  
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Hermione pushed her trolley in silence. Near-invisible trails of tears lined the shapes of her cheeks. She pushed her bangs out of her face and stepped aboard the Hogwarts Express. Her best friends Ron and Harry hadn't gotten there yet, and she unconsciously decided to save a compartment for the three of them.

As she took her seat by the window, Hermione took out her hand mirror and held it close to her face. As she analyzed her features, she grimaced. She had never thought herself an ugly girl, but this was not her day. She pulled the cuff of her sweater up and wiped the smudged eyeliner from her cheeks. She sniffed and rummaged through her bag, looking for her makeup. She quickly redid anything need fixing, shoved everything back into her purse, and reexamined.

"Oh the miracle of makeup," she mumbled, combing her hair with her fingers.

"Won't hide the mole Granger," a cold slither of a voice said. Hermione felt a small flush of heat from the anger the voice automatically instilled in her.

"Good morning ferret," she replied smoothly. She smirked both at her quick wit and the tiny wince the she caught sweep across his face. She would forever remember fourth year when the same tall, pale, almost-white-haired boy was turned into a ferret the color of his hair, by a teacher who claimed to have been 'defending' her friend Harry Potter.

"Harry and Ron aren't here Malfoy," Hermione said, her tone dripping with hostility.

In a clear, almost pleasant tone, Malfoy replied back, "Oh, but one could always use a warm-up."

"Why are you here?" Her cold stare never wavered, and neither did his. He sat down across from her, shrugged, and leaned back against the seat.

"50 boredom, 55 pure amusement," he said. Hermione looked down, calculating instantly in her head.

"That's more than 100." Malfoy smirked. "You can't have more than 100" Malfoy's smirk grew.

"This is where the fifty-five percent comes in." Hermione cocked her head to one side. "It tortures you how that was incorrect, doesn't it?" Hermione shook her head, though her lie was obvious to him. He laughed and stood up. He watched Hermione sigh with relief, and sat back down. "Then again, there's only Pansy waiting for me. I could stay a little while longer."

"Can and will are two different things, Malfoy. I trust you demonstrate that right now by leaving." Malfoy raised his eyebrow, following that with a fake frown.

"Now that hurts babe," he said coolly, laying back on the seat. "What will hurt is every inch of you're body after if you ever, even in your horrible humour, call me babe again. And if you don't leave this second." Malfoy sat up again, his stare calm but dagger like. He didn't like to be threatened.

"What is it that you'll do Granger? Turn me into a tea cozy?" He laughed, then returned to his angry tone of voice. "No one threatens me Granger, especially stupid mudbloods like yourself." He turned to leave when he felt a blunt point on the back of his neck. Malfoy sighed and put him arm down from the door handle. "Put the wand down Granger, don't do something you'll regret."

"Oh believe me Malfoy, I won't regret it. And no one else will regret me doing this either." With that Malfoy whipped out his wand and pointed straight at Hermione's head. "Put the wand down Malfoy, don't do something you'll regret," Hermione said in a mocking voice.

"You've really gone too far with this one mudblood, you're going to seriously-" Malfoy ducked out of the way of a silent Expelliarmus! from Hermione.

"If I could think how to explain how stupid, spoiled, selfish, and WRONG you are, I would do it right about now." They stared at each other a good three seconds before both teens got up enough anger to release a spell. They both opened their mouths, but before they could say anything, the compartment door flew open, letting out a loud bang as it opened all the way. Purple smoke poured into the room until neither Malfoy nor Hermione could see anything.

"What's going on, is this your doing Granger?" Malfoy's voice came out of the void.

"No, of course not, where are you?!" There was a flicker of fear in her voice. Hermione began to panic when something grabbed her arm tightly. She turned around to see who it was, and she came face to face with Malfoy, who was now holding her close to him. They were both confused, scared, and very dizzy teens when the smoke began to clear. Hermione held her breath. Their eyes didn't flicker for however long they stood next to each other, Draco's forehead on Hermione's and her hands around his arms. They stared at each other, keeping eye contact, as though what has happening around them would go away if they didn't look. Malfoy's grip on her began to release as his eyes closed and he fell to the ground. Hermione knelt down to look him over when she felt the fatigue come over her very fast. The next moment she was unconscious right next to Malfoy.

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_Hermione stood alone in a dark room. She looked around, surprisingly calm, looking for a sign of life other than herself. In the distance, a large white screen. She walked over to it, silent and slow, as though she was not aloud to make a sound. She brought her face an inch away from the screen and stared in silence for a long, full minute. Suddenly, the sound of an old fashioned camera flash sounded loud enough to make her ears ring, yet she did not move. A picture on the screen followed the sound. Hermione stepped back in attempts to focus in on the picture and see what it depicted._

_The image was blurry, unclear. She studied it until another flash sound rang out, this time accompanied with a flash of light and another picture. Still unclear. Hermione's senses were beginning to wake up now-- she jumped as she heard "I love you." in a mixture of voices. "I love you too" immediately followed. Another flash, another picture. Hermione thought, for a split second, that she recognized the picture as Harry. Another flash, another picture. Ron? No, couldn't be. Another flash, another picture. Draco? Maybe… Another flash, another picture. Something similar to Draco again. And again. And again. The pictures became faster and the flashed became brighter-- the noises louder too. I gut feeling told her, "Find him, find him. You can save him from this horrible fate." Over and over again that phrase shook her mind until finally she collapsed on that floor and woke up._

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Harry Potter had just dozed off when he heard Hermione scream. He immediately jumped to his feet and ran to her bedside. He grabbed her arms and pushed them to her sides, she was having a fit.

"Hermione! Hermione, wake up!" he yelled to her. Her eyes burst open and she sat up quickly.

"Where is Draco?" she demanded, her eyes wildly searching the room. Harry didn't answer, too shocked to hear what she was saying. "Harry! Where is Draco?!" her voice took a frightened tone to it, and Harry saw her eyes were desperate.

"H-he went to walk around the train. I told him he shouldn't go but-" but Hermione was already out the door.

"Draco! Draco! Draco where are you?!" Hermione pounded on the compartment doors. Her head was spinning, her mind racing. Images of Draco dead flashed in front of her eyes. She heard Draco calling her name, screaming in pain. Her head throbbed with pain, every image in front of her eyes was a punch to the stomach or a kick to the head. She doubled over in pain. She felt like she was on the path to death when she collided with a tall, hard object and fell to the floor.

The images stopped. The screams were silenced. The coldness and lonely feelings were gone. As the throbbing in her head slowly faded, she looked up. Holding his head, sitting on the floor in front of her was Draco Malfoy.

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Draco and Hermione stared at each other a good long minute before anyone said or did anything. Hermione felt oddly attached to those eyes. Like she was reading a life story in a single swirling gray orb. Once his breathing had slowed and he felt in control of himself again, Draco looked away and got up. He shoved his hands in his pockets and looked straight at her with the same unemotional cold stare he always had. "Did you call me, Granger?"

Hermione thought long and hard about the question. She had hadn't she? But why? "Yes I did…" she took hold of one of the compartments and tried to get up. Her hand slipped and she fell back down on the ground. Draco's reflex told him to hold his hand out, and she took the help, embarrassed. When she stood up, neither of them let go right away. His hands felt odd, something was different than before. They were unusually warm, and an electric jolt ran through her veins at the touch.

Finally, Hermione removed her hand from his and scratched her head behind her ear. "Er, you should come back to where we were. We should… find out what happened to us.…" She kept her eyes down and walked quickly in the other direction. What is wrong with me? she thought. What was that? All these years haven't I said I wanted Dra-… Malfoy, to die? Why should now be any different?

She stopped at a large wooden door marked Professor's Lounge and turned around. She was sure she hadn't turned around any corners. This must be the right door. Hermione lifted her arm and knocked on the door three times. The door opened quickly, Madame Pomfrey answered. "It's about time!" she said in an exasperated tone. "You shouldn't have left in the first place, just being attacked and all. What do they teach nowadays, any common sense left in children… ?" her voice trailed off and she walked back into the room. Hermione hesitated at the doorway, unsure of what to do.

"Well come along you two!" Hermione turned behind her to face Draco, yet again, but spun quickly back to face Madame Pomfrey. She felt her cheeks turn red as Draco nudged her from behind to get her moving. Hermione stepped slowly, taking in the room as she followed the nurse.

It was a full car of the train, a spell must have been cast to make it wider. It was a fairly large room with dark wood walls, two beds stuck out from the left side. Hermione saw this and her eyes shot toward the doorway. There was Harry, still sitting in his chair, now getting up to greet Hermione. "Why haven't I seen this room before?" Hermione mumbled to herself, a little too loudly.

"You didn't expect the professors to just stay at Hogwarts all summer, did you? We have families to you know," Madame Pomfrey said. Hermione blushed and felt oddly guilty.

"It wasn't that, it was just that… well in third year Professor Lupin was in a compartment with some of the students. Why wasn't he here?" Madame Pomfrey smiled.

"Oh, that's all is it? Professor Lupin needed rest and thought the Lounge was a tad too noisy for sleep. I suggested he go to a student compartment until the students boarded, and I suppose he was in too deep a sleep to notice when the students came." She put her hand on Hermione's back and pulled her further into the room. "Not to worry dear, we can't take off points yet. We don't bite."

Hermione let Madame Pomfrey guide her to the very back of the car to where three professors sat talking very fast, as though in a different language. She caught her name in the slur of words and cleared her throat. The three professors stood and finally addressed the three people in front of them. "Thank you Madame Pomfrey, we will call you if we need any of your further services," Dumbledore nodded to Madame Pomfrey, and she left to the other side of the car. "Minerva, Severus, we will continue this chat at a later time. But for now, I need to talk to Mr. Malfoy and Ms. Granger alone." Professors Snape and McGonagall shuffled off and out the Lounge door.

Dumbledore went to the right side of the back wall and pressed his long bony hand on a crack in the wood. Hermione's eyes widened as the crack stretched straight down. Light ran to the right, then up, then left, and back down the original crack to form a doorway. Dumbledore looked back at the two gaping students and chuckled. "Come along, we'll come to no conclusions standing here. Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley, if you'd care to join us?" The silver-haired professor took of his half-moon glasses and stepped through the light and was gone. Hermione looked back at Draco, Harry, and the newly arrived Ron and smiled as well as she could in the situation. She stepped up to the light, took a deep breath and walked into it.


	2. 02 Explanations

2 Explanations 

Hermione half expected to be spun of in a huge cosmos, like Floo powder or a Portkey. But when she stepped down, her foot hit a familiar hard stone floor. She opened her eyes and saw a dark, empty Great Hall. She looked for Dumbledore, confused, and found him sitting on one of the overturned tables on the side of the hall.

"Professor, are we-" she didn't bother with the rest of the sentence, as Dumbledore was already nodding his head wisely.

"In case of emergencies," he explained.

"Bloody hell, are we in the Great Hall?" Ron's loud awkward voice echoed through the Hall. Hermione walked over to him quickly and silenced him with a dark glare. "What, what'd I say?" Hermione sighed and turned to where she had entered the room and saw a smirking Draco strut through the Hall, and a flushed Harry stomping about behind him.

Hermione walked over to Harry quickly and gave him a concerned look. "What'd he do?" she whispered. Harry looked at her and blushed, his pink cheeks now turning scarlet.

"He…" He looked at her again, then averted her eyes. "He asked me if I…" he paused again.

"Come on, out with it." Hermione nudged his arm.

"He asked me if I had… shagged you," he said quietly, as though he would be scolded on the spot for saying such a thing.

Hermione's cheeks flushed immediately, though she was unsure whether it was more out of embarrassment or rage. Her head shot in Draco's direction, he was leaning against the far wall. Harry saw the fire in her eyes and jumped to grab her arms. "Hermione, no! Dumbledore's right there! Don't!" Hermione stopped struggling and turned so her eyes were on Harry.

"Let me just talk to him, alright?" she said and Harry let go. Hermione straightened her jacket and shirt, turned, and walked towards that evil white ferret known as Draco Malfoy.

"Hello Granger, how's that mole coming?" He smirked at her, but found the odd smile on her face a little alarming.

"Whatever happened to us Malfoy, whatever this strange inner connection I feel between us is, I don't care one bit. If you dare insult me like that ever again, I will not hesitate to beat you beyond recognition. And you know I can do it Malfoy, I'm first in our class. And you're a lousy second. This is our last year, and the rules are clear. I'm not a little girl anymore, and I'm not afraid of you." Upon hearing this, Harry had the frightful urge to yelled "OH! OWNED!" at the top of his lungs at Malfoy, but the feeling that no one would get it, and that he would be killed, stopped him.

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The four students and one headmaster sat in silence for a long time before anyone said anything. Draco had slid down the wall and was now messing with his shoelaces, bored and desperate for entertainment.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione were on the opposite side of the room, talking quietly amongst themselves.

"So where were you Ron? When we were in the Lounge?" Hermione asked remember she has not seen her red-headed friend when she ran out of the Professors' Lounge.

Ron's ears turned pink. "Oh, I was er, talking to Parvati." Hermione raised an eyebrow.

"Talking?" Ron nodded. "Is that what they call it these days?" Harry and Hermione laughed at him and Draco looked over at them. His and Hermione's eyes met, and he felt a familiar feeling of a summer's past. He felt himself begin to smile, but stopped himself and looked away, angry for letting himself be so weak.

Hermione felt butterflies in her stomach, then a deep sadness. Like she saw a whole other world in those eyes. Those deep gray eyes. She had seen the corners of Draco's mouth turn up slightly and his eyes soften, and his quick turn away. Hermione sensed that he had felt something similar to what she had.

"Mr. Malfoy, what did you feel just now?" Dumbledore asked, staring intently at Draco's face.

"Nothing," Draco said dismissively.

"It wasn't nothing, was it Mr. Malfoy?" Draco looked at the headmaster oddly, wondering how he knew how it made him feel.

"I just remembered something funny, that's all," he lied. Dumbledore looked at him with a wise twinkle in his eye. He knew that it meant something, he wasn't sure what though.

"And you remembered something as well, Ms. Granger?" He had the experience of a teacher and could back someone into a corner well.

"Well what difference does it make?" Draco demanded. He knew that it meant something, even if he didn't know what.

"What does it mean, then?" Hermione asked. Dumbledore stood up and walked to the center of the room.

"Mr. Malfoy, was there smoke in the compartment before you and Ms. Granger fainted?" Dumbledore asked calmly, his eyes unfocused toward the floor. Draco nodded.

"I couldn't see anything it was so thick."

"And Ms. Granger, what color was it?"

"Purple, sir." Dumbledore nodded slowly, not saying a word.

"And what was the last thing each of you saw?" Hermione and Draco looked at each other and thought for a moment.

"I think it was…" Hermione began.

"Each other," Draco finished for her.

"Ms. Granger, Mr. Malfoy, stand back to back here for me. Harry, Ron, behind me if you please." Everyone shuffled to get into the places Dumbledore had assigned them. "A little farther apart if you please, don't touch each other." Hermione and Draco moved a foot apart, then looked back at Dumbledore, unsure of what he was doing this for. "Draco, take Ms. Granger's hand, one side will do." Draco and Hermione looked at him in disgust, as did Harry and Ron behind his back. Dumbledore looked at them in a sort of mocking way. "I beg of you, this is a matter of great importance."

Draco gulped as he held his arm out behind him. Hermione reached for it, then pulled back. She looked at Harry, then Ron, then Dumbledore. Dumbledore nodded, and she took Draco's hand. She almost gasped at how warm and soft it was. Her fingers fit perfectly in his, it felt… nice. "When I say, please let go of one another and don't speak," instructed Dumbledore, though his voice seemed distant. "Three… two… one… let go."

Their hands dropped to their sides, and no one spoke. About five minutes passed in silence until Hermione first felt something. One of the gruesome images from before just flashed in front of her. Her breathing quickened, another image, another jab of pain. A scream sounded in the back of her mind. A punch, a stab, a stringing pain. She was unable to move, the pain paralyzed her. A name screeched and echoed off the walls in her head. She put a hand to her forehead. It felt white hot from pain. More small blows, the screams were getting louder, closer. Draco was screaming her name, why couldn't she same him? Her head was burning, her mind was reeling. She couldn't take any more suffering.

Hermione spun around, and everything stopped. When she looked up, she found herself in Draco's arms.  
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"What does this mean Professor?" Draco asked, immediately letting go of Hermione.

"I believe, Mr. Malfoy, that you and Ms. Granger were intoxicated by a sort of illegal binding potion." The remark got any only confused looks in return. "The purple smoke you breathed in on the train was a form of binding potion. Judging on what you two have just shown me, you may be apart for five minutes without feeling any side effects whatsoever. But after the five minutes, you start to feel the symptoms. Your time limit has been set at six minutes and twelve seconds until the real danger."

"Danger?" Hermione stepped towards the Headmaster.

"After that time, you both will loose consciousness and enter into a coma, from which you could pass anytime."

"Pass? As in die?" Dumbledore nodded slowly, Hermione gasped and pulled herself into Harry's chest.

"Can't you fix it?!" Draco yelled. Dumbledore stared at him hard.

"I'm not certain. We will have to inform the ministry. Then they will do everything in their power to find an antidote." Hermione looked up.

"How long?"

"Again, I'm not certain. The ministry banned binding potions years ago, and they haven't been used since. They was used on many people, and I'm not sure what the outcome of their misfortunes are. I'll try and find out anything I can, I give you my word."

Draco walked to the wall and hit it with his fist.

"You will, of course, be moved into the Head dorm, which won't cause any problem seeing as you were already chosen as Head Boy and Girl. You classes will be changed. I'll make the arrangements. Do any of you have any more questions?" Hermione stepped forward.

"Yea, I've got a few. Do we have to go everywhere together? What about sleeping? Going to the bathroom? What do we tell our friends?!" She was becoming hysterical, Harry, pulled her back into him and shushed her.

"Do we need to touch each other everytime, or is there an alternative? 'Cause I am not hugging her in front of people," Draco said with a sneer.

"Any form of contact. Hear each other, see each other, touch each other, anything you wish. Tell only who needs to know, try to keep it at a limit. This is a ministry offense, and who ever did this is not your friend." Draco and Hermione nodded and glanced at each other before they heard Hogwarts' wooden front hall door open.  
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Hermione and Draco sat facing one another an hour later, two rows of people between them. Hermione stared at her plate, chewing the same piece of chicken for several minutes until it was soggy in her mouth. She forced herself to swallow, but didn't take another bite. She felt herself feel empty and alone again, and tried to look up, but her mind was much too tired.

Another image. Hermione closed her eyes and focused all her energy on finding Draco's voice. She heard Harry, Ron, Ginny, Pansy Parkinson, Crabbe, and Goyle, but no Draco. She pushed her head up quickly, but saw no Draco. She looked around, desperately, trying to find him. _Don't scream,_ she told herself. _Don't scream_.

She suddenly lurched forward, causing her drink to spill all over her lap. She turned around and glared at the back of a platinum-haired seventh year boy, who was now walking out of the Hall. After cleaning her lap with her want, she got up and ran out of the Hall after him.

That wasn't very smart, Draco thought, walking towards the dungeons. _It was too obvious. Hopefully Hermione and I can think of something else to do if we can't see one another_. Draco stopped walking. He heard footsteps.

"Oy! Malfoy!" Draco turned around. "What the hell was that for?" Draco said nothing and turned back around, continuing to walk to the dungeons.

"Hey! I'm talking to you!" Hermione shouted.

"You just almost gave us away you know that?" Hermione looked deeply insulted.

"What?!"

"I could have passed it off as a quick trip to the lavatory, but you had to get all worked up and make a scene. Now, not only do we have to time us going back in, but we have to make up a story about what happened here! Real smart Granger." He started walking off again.

"What are you talking about Malfoy?"

Draco spun back around, incredibly close to Hermione's face. "You wouldn't look at me!" Hermione's still confused look caused him to explain. "We're stuck with this whether you like it or not Hermione. I never thought I'd have to be the voice of reason here, but you're too stubborn to see anything but blind hatred toward me. Well I'm different now, alright? And you're stuck with me, Princess, and that's not going change!" He spun on his heel and stomped off towards the Great hall.

Hermione backed up and hit her back against the wall. She slid down to the floor and rubbed her temples with her hands. She sighed, laying her hands on her knees. She stared at her legs until her mind faded out into a daze.

_Is he right?_ She thought, her eyes glazing over. _Could he possible be right? How could he lecture me on being mature? It's Malfoy for God's sake!_

_... He is right you know. There is no way out of this. We just need to try and be civil to one another, that's all. He does seem different. Maybe he's grown up a bit._

She stood up and brushed her robes off, then turned toward the Great Hall.

_Or maybe I'm out of my mind._


	3. 03 The First Night

Lovers: OMG I have reviews already, which for me is uber exciting. On my other stories (if you havnet read them, they're crap, so go read them to fully appreciate the talent that's out there) i had to bug my friends to review, and now i have reviews from three people i dont even know! (plus ashley who pwns.)

So this is like the shortest chapter ever- but never fear! Chapter four is going up literally right after this! Its done I just have to make font changes on the preview then UP it goes!! Reviews are always lovely, even if they arent nice btw. As long as they're stated intelligently and are beneficial to me in some way, its all good :

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3 The First Night

Hermione unpacked her trunk in silence, as did Draco. Neither face showed any emotion, but the room's presence was very grim and sorrowful. Draco felt, in a way, obligated to comfort Hermione. He felt like he need to talk to her at least, but knew better. He knew she needed at least one solid factor in her life, even if it was this horrible thing. Right now, she needed him to be ruthless, even if he hated it. But, for her, or at least so he wouldn't have to hear her, he would remain the same as before.

He nodded to himself and began unfolding her green and silver Slytherin scarf when something small and gold fell out of it onto his bed. He saw it and stopped moving, not making a sound. His breath caught in his throat. His stomach felt queasy as he slowly picked up the ring and stared at it. He felt his legs begin to shake and he quickly set himself onto his bed to keep from falling. Never taking his eyes off the ring, he tucked his legs into his chest and grasped it tight in his hand. He was suddenly filled with so much sadness and grief that he could barely stand it.

_It's alright to miss her. What happened to her was wrong. At least she wasn't killed by him, which would have happened if we weren't so careful about keeping it a secret._ Even Draco's mind stammered when he spoke of her._ Secret…_

His mind traveled back to the past summer, seeing only glimpses of a blonde-haired beautiful girl smiling and laughing. Their voices ran though his head.

_"I love you."_

_"I love you, too."_

That fateful day. Laughing and joking, then nothing more than a flash of light and a loud bang.

"Draco?" Draco snapped awake. "Draco are you crying?" His hand lifted to his cheeks. Hermione was right, they were wet. He immediately got up and went to the bathroom.

"I'm fine, its nothing!" he called from the bathroom. Hermione frowned. Had she done something wrong? She turned back to her bed when something gold caught her eye. She walked quietly to Draco's bed, glancing over her shoulder to make sure he wasn't looking. Hermione picked up the ring and read the engraving on it. To My Secret Passion, with Love, Draco. Hermione looked over her shoulder again at the door, but it was still closed. She quietly slipped it onto her engagement ring finger, it fit perfectly. She looked at it there for a few seconds, but frowning at the way gold looked against her fair skin. Silver was a much better color for her.

She was right in the middle of a wedding day fantasy when she heard the door behind her unlock. She pulled the ring off and placed it on the bed right when Draco opened the door. She spun around and smiled guiltily at him.

"What'd you do?" He looked at her suspiciously. He rammed his hands into his pockets, then, finding nothing, walked quickly to where she stood. "Did you put it on?" Hermione didn't answer. "DID YOU PUT IT ON?!" Hermione nodded yes quickly, for the first time, frightened of him. She gripped her wand hard in her pocket, hoping that he wouldn't give her a reason to use it. "Never Granger, will I catch you touching this again. Do you understand me?" Hermione didn't move. "Do you _understand _me?" Hermione nodded and backed up, falling on his bed. He stared at her, showing no emotion, only brute strength. Hermione got up quickly and went back over to her bed and didn't say anything to him the rest of the night.

When Hermione went to sleep that night, she was tired, stressed, and scared. She couldn't seem to get Draco's angry face out of her mind. She watched him for what seemed like hours, but felt exhaustion take over the worry, and slowly closed her eyes to dream.

At first there was only a blank black space and a white screen. A somewhat familiar setting, though she was unsure of where she had seen it before. She walked up to the screen and watched, waited. A flash of a face, still blurry and still un-recognizable. The same she had seen before. This face haunted her more than any of the others she saw after it. The loud flashing noise was the same as it had been before, but the voices had changed. She heard "I love you, why is that so wrong?!" in a frantic voice that changed pitch and speed many times, giving it a creepy, horror-movie sound. She could now hear arguing and yelling, but was unable to decipher what the two people were saying.

The arguing became louder, and the pictures came and left faster. The yelling, the horror-movie lines, and the flashes were beginning to blur into one flood. Hermione was paralyzed in her fear and

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Draco opened his eyes to pure darkness, unaware of where he was or what he was doing. As his eyes and mind adjusted, he could hear a soft voice across the room, crying out as though in pain. He sat up, sheet falling off his chest. The moonlight that shown through the window was barely enough to see, but Draco could still make out Hermione's shivering body in the darkness. He watched her, curious as to why she was shivering, when she suddenly cried out in anguish and her squirming turned into a full attempt to escape whatever she was dreaming about.

He didn't think a second too long. In one swift movement, Draco was on the other side of the room, untangling the sheets from Hermione's limbs. Once her body was free, he pulled her hair out of her face and began to speak to her, trying to wake her from her nightmare. "Hermione… Hermione!" Her eyes burst open and she sat straight up, grabbing a hold of Draco. Hermione began to sob, still clinging to Draco's neck. Draco, unaware of what to do, slowly rested his arms around her and began to try to calm her down.

After 10 minutes, Hermione's cries had settled into minor sobs and whimpers and Draco had pulled her onto his lap. She lay against his chest, trying to relax and keep her mind off the only images she could remember from the horrific dream she had. His hand gently stroked her back as he could feel her breathe in and out, and her heart beat regulating.

Draco's eyes began to feel heavier with the lack of sleep and excess energy spent on Hermione's rescue. Maybe he'd close his eyes, but just for a minute….

Draco first became conscious of the scent. The sweet, fruity smell of girly shampoo. He buried his face into the warm hair, a small smile crossing his lips. He pulled his arm around closer to him, unaware he was also pulling in a person. He then, happily, fell right back to sleep.

Hermione first became conscious about how comfy she was. Hermione never really felt comfortable sleeping, and her content with her position and the way the sunlight warmed her face surprised her. She yawned quietly and stretched her legs out, but retracted suddenly when her foot hit another. She turned her head and ran her fingers up the arm around her waist. Her fingers touched smooth warm skin and curved over relaxed muscle. Her hand bumped a chin, and she turned her head to look at who held her captive under his arm.

As Draco's face entered her vision, a jolt ran through her body all the way down to her toes. She was… scared? Nervous? She studied his face, unable to move. It was soft, happy. A perplexed look crossed Hermione's face and she shifted around under Draco's arm. She watched him breathe in and out looking almost angelic. He shifted in his sleep, pulling his arm in a little. Hermione felt sleep begin to take over once again and burrowed herself into his chest, drifting off, drifting off.


	4. 04 Waking Up Is Hard To Do

Lovers: See? Told you I'd make it up to you! This chapter's seven pages long! Seven!! Anyway, chapter five isnt even started yet, not really even in my mind yet. Luckily for me (and you, oh wonderful audience of mine), I have STAR testing at school and its easy. So when I am finished with this, I will begin to brainstorm (possibly read my old version for ideas) and then tomarrow I will try to write. Writing however is not something one can just DO. Mind you, its a mood and a way of life (honestly). I can only write certain times of year, though it always varies. Listening to the first like 5 tracks on Avril Lavigne's first album and Through the Monsoon and Rescue Me by Tokio Hotel help me.

At some point I am going to be posting URLs in the top, usually to a song or a video that has a song playing in it. It will be the song that I listened to while writing that chapter or section, a song that really puts me in the correct mood for that peice. It usually will only be really loving parts, really angry parts, or really sad parts... parts filled with a particular emotion. I dont know if that will help you at all, but I already have random parts of this fic written and songs to go with them : I talk too much I know. Enjoy chapter 4 (Maggie loved this btw)

* * *

4 Classes 

Draco groaned and pulled his hands to his face, blocking out the sun. A sharp tap, tap, tap on the window irritated him like an alarm clock buzzer. He wiped his face with his hands in small effort to wake himself up, and pulled the sheets off, only to find a slim feminine forearm wrapped around his bare stomach. He followed the arm with his eyes as it flexed, pulling the female figure attached to the arm into him. He pushed the wavy brown locks away from the girl's face, somehow surprised to find Hermione. He lay there, studying her, not sure of what to do. His arm was under her head, and her arm was over his abdomen. Trapped where he lay.

Slowly, he peeled her arm off of him and lay it gently next to her face. He lifted her head and pulled his arm out, replacing it with a nearby pillow. Draco got up and headed for the bathroom.

He stood in front of that mirror, in a daze, until he felt his head begin to throb. _Is that the first sign?_ he thought, moving towards the door. _Is that the first thing we feel when we've been alone for too long?_ He opened the door quietly as to not awake Hermione. He looked at her and the pain went away. He nodded, satisfied he knew the first sign.

Tap, tap, tap. The sharp knock on the window returned. Draco quickly walked over, opened the window, and pulled the letter from a golden-brown barnyard owl; it flew off, swerving around the castle towers. Draco unconsciously tore the seal of the letter, then began to read:

_Mr. Malfoy and Ms. Granger,  
Please come to my office immediately to discuss your classes and other arrangements. I would also like to know how the first night went._

_Professor Albus Dumbledore_

Draco dropped the letter onto the nightstand then attached his watch to his wrist. He had changed his pants and was looking for an appropriate shirt when Hermione moaned and rolled over on the bed, pulling the covers into her. _Cold_, Draco thought. He went to her and pulled the hair from her face. His finger graced the side of her cheek and a spark shocked his finger. It snapped him back to reality.

_Damn static electricity_ he thought.

He touched her shoulder quickly to test for another jolt. When he felt nothing, he felt silly, and shook Hermione awake. Hermione opened her chestnut eyes and stared at him, then looked down quickly at his bare chest. She blushed slightly, causing Draco to blush as well. Embarrassed, he tossed the letter in front of her on the bed.

"Hurry up and get dressed Granger. We have to see Dumbledore," he said, looking away to avoid her questioning gaze. His unemotional tone kept Hermione silent, and she watched for a moment as he resumed his search for a shirt. She looked down from him and pushed herself up to a sitting position on the bed, the tension acting as a thick fog between them. The minutes passed like hours and words were scarce.

Hermione wasn't sure of whether to thank Draco or to slap him. What she remembered of the night before did not make herself feel dirty, but she was still unsure of his true intentions.

She was still deep in thought when she began undressing herself right in front of Draco. "Hermione!! What the hell are you doing?" She stood in front of him, shirt partially pulled up over her stomach.

"Oh. Er… well I was just-"

"Well don't alright? Things are already awkward enough, thanks." He turned toward the door, pulling a black button-up shirt over his shoulders. "I'll be in the common room. Five minutes Granger." Draco opened the door and stepped into the doorway. "Oh. By the way…" he turned back to her, his gaze much more soft and understanding than before. "If your head starts to hurt, don't think, don't do anything else, just get to me, alright? I don't care if you're half naked," he finished, knowing when he saw Hermione's face that he had sounded like a pervert.

"Don't overanalyze anything Granger. Like I'd ever want to see you naked." He slammed the door on the way out.  
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_I went too far._ Draco paced around the common room. _I can't say I'm sorry, that's just not like me. Maybe it wasn't that bad?_ Draco stopped pacing and thought for a moment. _No, that was very bad_. _Very_ _bad_.  
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_The NERVE!_ Hermione thought, violently pulling out her outfit of the day. She didn't like to admit when she was hurt, but this time Malfoy had been just a little too cruel. The too-familiar stab at her looks sparked painful memories of her formerly large teeth and her old wild, frizzy hair. She looked in the mirror, and was happy to find that she was not who she was first year. _Still. It takes 2000 compliments to erase any insult. I'd better get a lot of those today!_

Hermione quickly ran to the bathroom and began to fix her hair, knowing that the clock was ticking. She felt the first small pain in her head and put everything down. She ran to the door, yelled "Malfoy?!" and retreated the moment she heard "What?!!" coming from Draco downstairs.

By the time she was done, her hair was smooth and straight and her makeup complimented her chestnut eyes and light pink lips. She looked in the mirror, feeling a lot better already, and proceeded out the door and down the stairs.

When she entered the common room, Draco had to do a double-take. Being early September, the last of the summer winds allowed Hermione to wear a black miniskirt and a matching polo, black with a small white butterfly in the top corner. Her shoes were boots that only highlighted her long, slender legs, making Draco sweat at the sight. However, though she looked hot on the outside, her tone was ice cold.

"You're drooling Malfoy," she said, walking swiftly past him and out the portrait hole. Draco wiped his hand over his mouth, his cheeks flushing slightly. He took a deep breath, thought of something vile, and proceeded after her.

Hermione had noticed his reaction to her outfit of choice. She thought, walking briskly ahead of him as to not let him see her smirk, _'Like I'd ever want to see you naked.' You are so transparent Malfoy. You are first and foremost_ _man_.  
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Draco and Hermione walked five paces apart, making sure to veer off their intended course when any classmates appeared. Draco, in front, would turn around every so often to renew his timeframe, though Hermione sensed he was looking back much more often than he needed. When they reached Dumbledore's office, Draco stopped and waited for Hermione to catch up, staring at the falcon staircase that had been lowered to receive them. She walked up next to him and whispered, "For someone so cold and distant, you sure like to look, don't you Ferret?"

Draco repeatedly slammed his head against the perfectly placed brick wall set inside his mind, and contained his embarrassment, returning an icy reply. "I told you earlier Granger. I'm not interested."

Hermione wasn't phased by his sarcastic response and finally moved toward the staircase. "Actions and words Malfoy, actions and words…" Draco cursed silently under his breath and reminded himself to walk in the back next time.  
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Dumbledore's office still held its same mystery no matter how many times one had set foot in it. Hermione and Draco both resisted the urge to revert back to their younger years and run ramped- touching everything and sparing nothing. There were random gadgets and trinkets on the shelves, but Hermione and Draco stood uncomfortably in front of a large oak desk waiting for their Headmaster to appear.

"How was the first evening?" Dumbledore's voice was soft but strong, and made the two kids jump.

"Good morning Professor," Hermione said, smiling at him. She had always loved Dumbledore like a grandfather. Between her third and fifth year however, she felt as though Dumbledore had been exchanged with an exact duplicate in every way but spirit. His appearance did not change, but his personality had morphed into being too young, too forceful; not nearly as commanding of respect as the Dumbledore before and now.

As though an actor had taken over this rare role third year and conducted his character ever-so-poorly-- younger, annoying, and made you want to flick him in the forehead every now and then to see if he'd stop making stupid puns and annoying metaphors. As though maybe, just maybe, one day Dumbledore would fall down, hit his head, and remember that he is Dumbledore, Headmaster at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, not some sixty-six-year-old actor from Dublin who acted in bombs like Sky Captain and the World of Tomorrow, The Life Aquatic with Steve Zissou, and The Omen remake (where he was the only character who didn't die; UNJUSTICE I SAY!).

Yes. As though that happened.

But it didn't of course. Right? Right. So on we go.

Hermione and Draco kept silent, awkwardly shifting his or her weight from one foot to the other, awkwardly hoping that Dumbledore would forget or move on from his question, awkwardly looking at every inch of the office in the direction opposite each other until the subject had changed. How did the night before go? Hermione had an odd Indie-film-style dream where she saw images of who knows what; Draco woke her up and held her, which calmed her somehow; Hermione and Draco woke up in the same bed, in each other's arms, and before realizing "Oh wait! I hate your soul," they didn't do anything about it. It was FANTASTIC, Headmaster! Why, oh, why did we not have this illegal potion put upon us enemies sooner?

Somehow all of that was not said aloud.

Dumbledore waited patiently, knowing he was not misheard. Hermione raised her head a bit, murmured a hasty, "Fine," and returned her gaze to her perfectly filed and manicured nails.

The Headmaster smiled with wisdom beyond their years and clearly didn't believe her, but accepted the response. "Wonderful. Your class list Mr. Malfoy." He handed Draco a small piece of parchment. "Miss Granger." They were, of course, the same. "If you still have any questions, you may ask them now. My door is always open as well."

Draco was the first to speak. "Did you send an owl to the Ministry?" Dumbledore nodded, though his eyes were sad.

"They can't do anything can they?" Dumbledore looked at the speaker of those somber words and searched her chestnut eyes for emotion.

"Unfortunately, there was no proof of who did this to you two, nor is there any evidence of who made the potion. The ministry is, however, doing all they can to find an antidote. They have the best wizards in the world working for them, I assure you." Hermione still said nothing.

"We'll come to you if we have any further questions Professor," Draco said. He turned toward the door. Hermione nodded her acknowledgment of the news given, then followed Draco out. They both walked in silence back to their dorm, not bothering keeping up appearances.

As they reached their room, Draco finally spoke. "Well… at least people are working on it. Maybe I can get out of this mess sooner than it seems." He tried to add an icy tone but failed miserably, leaving an obviously pained expression on his face.

"Malfoy?" Hermione's voice was horribly sad sounding. "Draco?"

"What do you want from me now Mud-"

"Draco, stop."

He paused. "Stop… stop what?"

Hermione turned to him. "We'll never get through this without killing each other unless we at least just _try_ to get along. I don't mean buying each other cupcakes and Christmas gifts, I mean… can't we at least be civil to each other?"

Draco couldn't look at her, but nodded slowly.

"I mean, come on. You're human and I'm human. What's the big difference anyway?" Draco's heart stopped. His mind repeated those words over and over again. _You're human…._ Blonde hair._ I'm human…._ A flash of light._ What's the big…._ A loud crash.

Draco whipped around and pushed the nightstand over, causing papers and a lamp to fly across the room. He punched the wall angrily and stomped toward Hermione, his cheeks flushed with anger. "You… and I… are as far apart as anyone could ever be." Hermione couldn't move in fear that he would take more anger out on her. "Don't you dare ever say that again, Mudblood." He stomped out of the room and out the portrait hole; Hermione fell to her knees.  
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Hermione lay on her bed, staring at the gold moon and star-covered ceiling. Her mouth moved in strings of poetic verses, but not sound escaped her lips. She was mouthing the words to a song she knew and was listening to. She had gotten special permission from Professor McGonagall to take the charm off her iPod so she could listen when she needed to. The fact that she was stuck to her enemy for an indefinite length of time most likely helped convince the professor.

Draco had returned a few minutes after he had left, though his face revealed an inner conflict of interest. Embarrassed, he talked to an invisible wall built of sound that pounded in Hermione's ears. Her face remained emotionless and still, she could only hear the music. As his mouth opened and closed with words she couldn't and didn't care to hear, she studied him. His brow was wrinkled with frustration, but his eyes revealed that it wasn't his earlier anger that made him confused or worried inside him. He grinded his teeth while waiting for Hermione to react in some way, and began another sentence when Hermione put her hand over his mouth. She held up her iPod, assuming he knew what one was, and turned up the volume to show him that she really could not care less about what he was saying. She stood up and left in one quick and elegant movement, closing the dormitory door behind her.

Draco waited until his temples first began to twinge before he got up to renew their curse. He made sure his anger was spent and walked up the stairs. He found her in her lying position, her lips moving faintly. He walked over and sat next to her. He brought his hang up and gently pulled one of the headphones from her ear. She stared at him, his eyes had changed.

"I'm sorry."

He gave her back the headphone and went to his bed. They stayed in their room in silence until dinner. Hermione felt uncomforted by Malfoy's kindness. Something was different about him, something odd. She thought about it for those few hours, turning over the possibilities in her mind.

At ten 'till Draco nudged Hermione with his book and she woke from her dreamy state. He smiled subtlety and was the first out the door. She looked at him, puzzled. She glanced at his nightstand to see what he had been reading: The DaVinci Code. She chuckled, one of her favorites. She was a bit taken aback then: The DaVinci Code was a Muggle book. She followed Draco silently, thinking, until his voice broke the silence.

"What were you listening to?" His tone was pleasant enough, but a little awkward for me. She tried desperately to, at least for now, go back to how it was.

"Why do you care, ferret?" She immediately winced at her poor remark. Why did she WANT him to be mean to her? Was that really how much this change affected her? Was she really that desperate to return to normal?

Draco didn't react to the insult, merely kept walking slightly in front of Hermione. His hands were in his pockets, he walked with an air of confidence that no one could touch. Hermione felt a little silly- her head was down and she kept rubbing her arms like a shy little schoolgirl.

"T- they're foreign. You probably wouldn't know them," she said quietly. Draco smiled slightly, though she did not see. Hermione feared that he was angry with her for her tone, and instead asked him a question in as friendly a voice as the situation would allow. "You're reading The DaVinci Code?"

"Mhm. I heard it was good."

"It is. It's one of my favorites." She thought for a second, then realized- this was silly! He yelled at her, why should she worry about him being mad at her? Her confidence returned, she walked up next to him and continued her interrogation.

"Since when do you read Muggle books, Malfoy?" He chuckled slightly, making Hermione nervous. Whenever he chuckled like that she and Harry and Ron were usually the butt of some dumb joke close by. She opened her mouth to ask what the laugh was for, but he spun around, backing her into the wall close to the door of the Hall. Draco stepped forward, putting his face merely an inch or two from Hermione's. She felt his hot breath on her nose as he stared in her eyes- no, through them. He pulled even closer, making like he was going to kiss her, his lips mere particles away from hers. Hermione unconsciously closed her eyes, she had so many thoughts going on at once that it startled her.

Draco pulled closer and closer, the air surrounding their mouths were the same and Hermione breathed in as though she was dunking into a vat of cold water. "Hermione…" he whispered delicately. She felt the word hover between their mouths. "Please…" Her eyes were open the smallest slit, she saw Draco's warm face near hers.

The sudden absence of his face and heat made her open her eyes all the way. "Please fix your shirt before you come in, it looks hideous." He was back to his normal distance, ruffling with his cufflinks. Hermione's head was spinning from the quick vision change. "Right. See you in five minutes."

It took almost the entire five minutes before she realized what he had just done. She yelled at herself for being suckered into it, but it was hopeless now. Why had she closed her eyes, why had she acted like she liked it? She shook her head in attempts to scramble the thoughts to something different like the weather or cute Ravenclaw boys. She quickly fixed her hair and lipgloss, then entered the Hall like Draco had instructed.

Hermione walked down the room and looked around at all the happy students. She was glad to see several hands raise in frantic, friendly waving toward her. She returned the waves, then took her place at the Gryffindor table, squeezing between Harry and Ron.

"Oy, 'Mione. There's plenty of room on that side, isn't there?" Ron groaned, rubbing the spot on his shoulder Hermione had just accidentally elbowed. Hermione and Harry looked at him, waiting the usual few seconds it usually took for Ron to realize he had just said something rather dim. The time of clarity never came, however, and Hermione had to nudge and gesture toward Malfoy to get him to remember her predicament. "Oooooh, yes, I remember. Sorry about that."

"Has someone ever offered you a small long paper thing that smelled very strong and smoked a bit on the end?" Harry and Hermione laughed at the joke they knew Ron would never get.

"Yes… Fred and George offer me that all the time. Why?"

Silence.

"…What?"

"…So how was everyone's day?" Hermione said cheerily.

"Ours was good, where have you been all day?" Harry asked, spooning more mashed potatoes onto his plate. "You're usually the first one up and out, but we couldn't find you today."

"Oh. Er, Malfoy and I just stayed in. We didn't want things to get too complicated too quickly, what with having to be around each other all the time and all that." This answer satisfied the two boys, as they were having a much more exciting conversation with each of their plates at the moment.

"Malfoy came this close to kissing me just now." Ron and Harry both choked on their food at this news.

Harry gasped a breath, "W-what?"

Hermione giggled and wiped mashed potato from his cheek, his face turning slightly pink. "Don't worry," she said, taking a small piece of steak onto her plate. "He did it just to get to me." Thinking about it, Harry ground his teeth, he felt pressure in his temples when he imagined Malfoy touching Hermione's cheeks, lips, hands, kissing her, holding her. His fists clenched around his fork.

"Harry?" Hermione's voice snapped him from his stupor. His built up anger immediately faded, and he thought nothing of it anymore.

"I'm alright. Just shocked I guess."

"That's not nice Harry. Are you suggesting that it is surprising that someone would be attracted to our lovely Hermione?"

Hermione laughed. "Thanks Ron," she began. "That's very sweet, but I doubt that's what Harry meant." She turned to him. "Was it Harry?"

Harry turned pink in his cheeks again, mumbling "Of course not…"

Ron laughed, he knew Harry was developing a crush on Hermione. Harry had, in fact, talked to Ron about it the previous night. Harry, valuing his friends above all others, wanted to make sure it was alright with Ron that he liked her- he didn't want something as silly as liking a girl, especially if it was Hermione, ruin their friendship. Now, however, it seemed Harry would never hear the end of it.

After dinner, Hermione got an idea. She caught Draco's eye and stood up, making to leave near a large group of third years. Draco followed thereafter, making sure to copy his former overconfident walk that people had come to know.

Hermione was waiting outside the Hall door for him. He came through the doorway and stepped up to her, making sure no one could see them. "You owe me, Granger, I wasn't done eating you know," he said. She looked up from her previous gazing point, there was a devious gleam in her eyes.

Draco stared at her. Hermione smirked. "Wha-?"

Hermione pulled him by his jacket into her, turned them around and pushed him into the stone wall. She put one bare leg between his legs and brought her hand up to the back of his neck. She leaned into him, letting the curviness of her figure be felt on his rigid body. She tugged on his lower back with her other hand. Her slow warm breath touched his neck up to his cheek. Draco stopped breathing, his hands lay flat against the castle wall. "Draco," Hermione purred in his ear. She brushed her bottom lip against his earlobe and whispered, "Anything you can do…" she exhaled lightly on his neck, giving him goose bumps. "I can do better."

With that she pulled away and began walking toward their dorm, leaving Draco, now on the floor, feeling like an ass (an ass with an erection- sounds like Yami to me).


	5. 05 Friends and Accusations

I'M ALIVE!!! I realize I haven't written since May. And when I say I haven't written since May, I mean I haven't WRITTEN since May. Not just not posted... WRITTEN. I went through some bad shit for a while and my therapist suggested I start writing again cuz I mentioned it. Then I realized that this chapter had been pretty much done since May. El oh el. So I've also decided that there are certain rules to fanfic-ing that people just (most of the time) decide is true. Like for one, that Snape is Draco's Uncle. And that... crap I forgot the other one.

Well here's the next chappie. FORGIVE ME!! Oh and to those who have added me to their subscriptions list or will... THANK YOU SO MUCH!! OMG, when i recieved word, I like FREAKED OUT I was sooo happy! 33 Katherine   
b Chapter Five: Friends and Accusations /b 

"Come on Drackie! What should the ickle firsties do next?" Pansy Parkinson was hanging all over Draco's arm, smacking her chewing gum around in her mouth. "Do you want them to get you something special from the kitchens?"

"I'm not hungry for anything that isn't already here," he said uncomfortably. He knew that his friends would think it odd, him not taking advantage of a perfect opportunity to torture, but he couldn't give in to it. He looked back at them with the look of an angry leader: _Don't question me_, it said. Draco thought quickly to change the subject. "Why don't you have them get you something?"

At this, Pansy let go of him immediately and began chatting with some Slytherin girls next to her, ignoring Draco and her still empty plate. Draco was convinced that she'd stopped eating years ago, though the sympathy and care he supposed he was obligated to feel never came, and he paid no attention to her that wasn't deemed absolutely necessary.

"Hey, Draco, where were you last night? We waited up for you in the dorm but you never showed," Draco's dumb friend Gregory Goyle asked. Goyle reached for yet another donut and Draco's heart nearly jumped out of his chest.

"Er, I'm not staying in the Slytherin dorm."

Goyle, their other friend Crabbe, Pansy, and a few others tuned their heads toward him at this. Draco felt himself get very hot under his shirt, but cleared his throat and kept his eyes cold in attempts to keep consistency in his persona. "They're doing this new thing where the Head Boy and Head Girl have to sleep in the same down. House unity or something… So, that's where I have to sleep for the year." He waited quietly, chewing on some roast beef, for his story to sink in.

"I heard something about that," a third-year piped up. Thanking the small boy silently in his head for the lie, Draco nodded to him, acknowledging that this report the boy had 'heard' was indeed the one Draco meant.

"Who's Head Girl, sweetums?" Pansy squeaked, batting her eyelashes violently. Draco wondered for a quick moment what kind of books and television she would have to pay attention to in order to think that any of this 'flirting' actually worked.

"Hermione Granger." The Slytherins around him booed loudly and turned to look at her. They threw paper balls her way and hissed menacingly at her. Hermione looked at Draco, confused, and he raised his eyebrows and shrugged while the attention was focused on her. _I couldn't help it,_ he thought. Hermione rolled her eyes and returned to her steak-and-kidney pie, unfortunately used to the banter.

"Honestly Hermione, I don't know how you do it," Ron said, watching Draco laugh as his fellow Slytherins forced a first year to do pushups with a bowl of fruit on his head. Hermione looked over at him, she caught his eye. She looked quickly back to Ron and Harry.

"It's not as bad as you might think."

Ron and Harry stared at her in silence, she sighed. They didn't understand her. "It's not fun guys, but it's not unbearable," Hermione said, looking back down at her plate. It was dinnertime now and classes started tomorrow. Obviously, it was a source of must stress and nervousness. The thought made her stomach twitch on the inside and she was getting a headache. She rubbed her temples and ran her hand through her hair nervously, her gaze unconsciously wandering over to the Slytherin table. Her headache didn't go away; genuine stress plagues her mind.

"Hermione? You okay?" Harry asked. Hermione came back to reality suddenly, knocking over her water. It spilled over the front of her shirt and a group of cool laughter made her blush. She looked up where her gaze previously lie and all three Gryffindors glared at Draco and his friends.

Hermione dried herself with a swift wave of her wand and returned her focus to the Slytherin table. She stared right into Draco's eyes, who's laugh quickly faded. He stared hard back, a mixture of triumph, humor and loathing embedded into his gray eyes. As Ron and Harry asked her quietly if she wanted to leave, she turned to them. After declining their invitation, she looked back at Draco. What was this- pity? Sadness? She shook her head and turned away, suddenly away of the visual side effects of a stress headache.

Draco must have seen her puzzled expression because he quickly put himself back in check, silently scolding himself for letting any guard down. He left her with no clues to his behavior, she had nothing but her thoughts and two clueless boys sitting next to her.

Draco's stomach turned. Breakfast the next morning was the same it had been the days before, and almost the same as the previous six years. But never had he felt this much anticipation. Sure, the teachers had been informed, and if the school knew about his and Hermione's situation, it wouldn't be that bad. Hermione would receive many condolences and perhaps then, his Slytherins would back off her. Or maybe they would kill her in attempts to break him of the curse. This thought did not help his stomach very much.

Hermione, unlike Draco, found herself completely changed from the evening before. She had weighed the consequences in her head, took into account that they were the victims of a serious breach of Magical Law, and found herself to be, in fact, relieved. Her hours of thinking the previous night had paid off and she now found no bad side to everyone finding out that she was mentally chained to her mortal enemy. After all, nothing could be worse than the actual crime against her. Being connected to Malfoy and around him all the time had to be worse that whatever the other students had in store for her. Nevertheless, she decided that she still should talk to Draco before their first class, Potions, about what to say in certain situations.

"Draco!" she called to him when he came out the Hall door a half an hour later. He gasped seeing her out in the open, calling his name so freely and he pulled her quickly into the nearby broom cupboard that always seems to appear in these kinds of stories.

"What do you think you're doing, calling my name like that?!" Draco whispered angrily to her.

Hermione laughed aloud. Light from the crack in the doorway fell across her face and Draco could just make out her bright chocolate eyes twinkling. "Oh, calm down," she said when her laughter subsided. "I really don't see the big deal about keeping this a secret any longer. Think of it this way- we are the victims here! People will, most likely, cut us some HUGE slack or better yet-" she paused and looked up at him with a look of fake-hope, adding with a cheek-squeeze and a baby voice, "people may learn to not despise you because you're tortured little boy who only wants his life back the way it was before back when he was a big boy." She giggled at his look of annoyance. "But don't worry. That's incredibly unlikely."

Draco quickly retorted, "I do see the benefit of it all. What do you think my Slytherins will do to you, seeing as you're making my life a living Hell?"

"Oh, so I'm making your life a living Hell now am I?"

"Well, according to them you are."

"And according to you Malfoy? Why don't you tell me what you think? These past few days I haven't heard a single thought that you've had. Its all been 'I hate you' and then 'I'm sorry' and leading the Slytherins in a riot against me. You never have thought for yourself, you know." She said all of this very fast.

"I think you should leave me the fuck alone!"

Hermione's hurt expression surprised him, he cleared his throat and talked with a strained voice, "So, all the teachers have been told, am I right?"

Hermione was disappointed with the subject change; she longed to know what had hurt him so much that he had had such a dramatic shift in personality. "Y-yes, they have."

"Well," he said, looking at his watch. "That won't make a difference if we're late. Snape'll have our heads, even mine. Let's go." He opened the closet door and peered outside. No one was around, and he could hear that the Great Hall was empty.

"_Shit_, we're late," Draco swore, and he took off towards the dungeons. Hermione started after him, trying to keep close to his heels.

Standing outside the dungeons, Hermione took one last look at Draco before opening the door. She stepped in and was surprised to feel Draco following her immediately after. Snape watched them with loathing in his eyes as they took seats on opposite sides of the classroom. He waited after they seemed settled, studying them closely. After a few minutes, Draco and Hermione looked from him to each other. Snape chuckled. "So, it's true then…" he said quietly.

The whole class had been waiting for class to start and for Draco and Hermione to be punished via some form of humiliation. This lack of torture threw them off guard. Draco and Hermione looked up at their Potions professor, knowing full well what he was talking about- unlike the rest of the students.

"Miss Granger, Mister Malfoy, why are you late to my class this morning?" Snape said in his familiar icy tone, greasy hair curtained around his harsh face. Her turned to Hermione, blocking her view of Draco and his view of her. Draco's heart quickened, but Hermione appeared to remain calm. Respecting Draco's wishes to keep their bond a secret, she took a deep breath and spoke quietly to Snape, who now hovered above her.

"Professor, I think you know why we are late, or at least what it pertains to. If you are unaware of the current situation, Professor Dumbledore certainly would have his reasons for not informing you of it. But whether he has or not, I refuse to discuss it under these circumstances, not now."

A few low gasps around Hermione emitted from students paying very close attention, but because of her quiet demeanor and close proximity to Snape, barely anyone heard. Snape, however, smirked. "Ten points from Gryffindor, Miss Granger, for being late and speaking disrespectfully to a teacher." Gryffindors groaned and Slytherins grinned, but Draco and Hermione just stared at one another.

"And I'd like to see you after class Mr. Malfoy."

Hermione stood, waiting. She was a little frustrated with herself. Lately she'd been so emotional, letting herself just say anything she felt and not caring about how it affected others. She hadn't cried so much in years. While she waited she decided that she was approaching the Malfoy-Situation entirely wrong. Then again, she had no idea how she _should_ be handling it either.

Something crashed inside the classroom, startling Hermione. The Gryffindor girl Snape had told later in the class to stay after with Draco suddenly burst out of the room and ran away in tears. Hermione watched her flee, slightly worried, but then leaned back against the wall.

"I wonder if you could make this quick, Professor? I don't have a lot of time," Draco's voice took a cold formal tone.

Snape said nothing but moved swiftly back to his desk, taking his seat and folding his hands in front of his face. "You are aware, I'm assuming, that I have been informed of your… _situation_."

"I would expect so."

"Well, Draco, I am unfortunately obligated as both your teacher and Uncle to remind you of the dangers of who you are bound to."

Silence.

"I'm not sure I know what you mean, Professor." Hermione heard Snape sigh and circle around his desk; the wood creaked as he sat in the edge.

"I mean, Draco, that you are in a dangerous situation. That girl is no good for anyone, her and those two idiots running off after anything they deem _evil_. No doubt she's… _friendlier_ than some of the other girls, that's obvious. I'm warning you Draco, she's a seductress- you remember Viktor Krum, do you not? And why else would those two morons follow her around all day?" Draco remained silent as Hermione resisted the urge to burst into the room and throttle Snape for the things he had said about her. Snape spoke quietly after a minute, "It's not a good idea with you and your… family situation."

Hermione's stomach turned at this. She forgot about Snape's harsh comments and listened for more when footsteps broke the silence. Draco's voice blew through the air, forced and choppy. "I've never found… any evidence to… justify that claim, Professor." Hermione could tell his voice was strained, he was breathing heavily. His body moved in small circles as though to him the room was spinning. _Oh no_, she thought, trying to peak through the crack in the door. _How long has it been since he's seen me?_

Snape continued his open banter of Hermione, turning his back to the door for a moment. Draco felt a painful jolt of electricity that shook his entire body. His head continued to throb, though he refused to show weakness in front of his Uncle, even when his back was turned. Hermione, though, saw him twitch violently in pain. Without thinking she reached her arm through the crack and grabbed Draco's hand. He looked at her questioningly.

"Do you understand what I mean to tell you?" Draco snapped back to attention and pushed Hermione's arm through the door. When Snape tuned around, Draco was leaning against the inside door frame, hands behind his back, invisibly holding Hermione's hand on the other side of the almost-closed door.

"Were you even listening to me, Draco? You realize you aren't in a suitable position to stop listening to your elders, especially your teachers." He paused, eyeing Draco up and down. He walked towards his desk again, "What would your father think?"

Hermione felt a kind of guilty sadness as Draco clenched her hand in anger. She held I back just as strong, cupping it with her other hand as well. She turned and leaned her head against the door, helping it stay closed.

Draco inhaled deeply and slipped his hand back through the door. Moving slowly and with cold confidence he spoke to Snape, "I would prefer if my father was kept out of this, Professor. Entirely if you wouldn't mind." Though he added the ending as a polite phrase of request, there was no questioning tone in his voice- he knew his way was done.

"Alright, Mr. Malfoy. I will see to it that I will take temporary guardianship of you in this matter. But be warned- I will not cover for you like Lucius does, nor will he be around to help you if you mess up. Am I clear?" Snape loomed over Draco, clearly not used to or liking the way Draco commanded him in his classroom.

"Very clear, professor. May I go?" Draco looked up as innocently as he could. Snape nodded, Draco turned on his heel, grabbed his bag, and walked out.

dun dun DUNNNNNNN!!! I've started chapter six!! As in all Hermione-Draco fics... Hermione and Draco will inevitabley end up together. The question isss... HOW? and WILL THEY PERMANATELY??! So, MY question is... how much longer do you think I should put off them being all yayyy together. Cuz I want them to be like whoo but I dont want it to be too soon. Any thoughts?

Reviews and Adds would be SHAMAZING!!


	6. 06 I Stopped Thinking Of Chapter Names

Yo, son. Here's the next chapter. I really hope I start thinking of things for them to do. I have writers block for the transition/time filler time. Any suggestions? Help would be mucho appreciated!

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Chapter Six

Hermione and Draco sat on opposite sides of the common room, doing homework after their first day. Well, Draco did homework anyway. Hermione stared at him, thinking about that morning with Snape. What 'family situation' did Snape mean? Why did Draco want his father out of the picture, when he had always been there to smother him with gifts? Snape was Draco's Uncle?!

"You're staring, Hermione," Draco said, not taking his eyes off his paper.

"Oh… sorry…." She returned to her work, forcing herself to focus.

_______________________________________________________________________________

Hermione and Draco sat on opposite sides of the common room, doing homework after their first day. Well, Hermione did homework anyway. Draco stared at his paper, not paying attention to what he was writing. His mind was elsewhere, thinking about what Snape had said. Was Hermione really a seductress? Was Snape going to keep his word and not tell his father? Were they really in danger?

He stopped writing long enough to hear that Hermione had stopped working. He saw from the corner of his eye that she was staring in his direction; he didn't like being stared at when it wasn't on his terms.

"You're staring, Hermione," he said, putting his quill to parchment once again.

"Oh… sorry…."

_______________________________________________________________________________

It was an hour before dinner and Hermione and Draco were finishing up their assignments. Hermione had moved to the same table as Draco because he complained about having to turn around every five minutes.

They hadn't spoken with the exception of the seating arrangement for the entire two hours they had been there. Hermione was working on a particularly boring bit of Ancient Runes when her mind began to wander again to her previous questions. Draco didn't notice until she spoke.

"What did Snape mean by 'family situation'?"

Draco stopped writing and thought a moment. "I don't know Granger, what problems could a family full of death eaters possibly have at a time full of Voldemort-Fear?" he said coolly. He began writing again, Hermione blushed. _Of course_, she thought. _How could I have forgotten?_

"But haven't you always claimed your family was framed?"

Draco scoffed, putting more ink on his quill. "Why lie about something everyone knows is true?"

Hermione nodded, but wanted more answers. "So Snape's your uncle?"

"So you're a whore?"

Hermione gasped. Hearing herself being called 'seductress' by a loathed enemy was bad enough. "I am NOT a whore!"

"Like I care."

"...Thank you?" she eyed him suspiciously. He laughed coldly and moved to meet her eyes.

"Don't flatter yourself, Granger. I'm not one of your best mates, sworn to never listen to the mean things people may say about you, will love you and care about you forever... No. I just don't care enough to notice how quickly you take on and off those sexy black knickers we all know you're wearing." He added a wink at the end.

Hermione sat and stared blankly back at him. "But I'm not wearing my black underwear today." Draco's eyes widened on his paper and Hermione immediately felt herself blush. "I-I mean... er... MALFOY!"

Malfoy began laughing hysterically, just catching himself before falling to the floor. "Oh wow, no, you're definitely not a whore Hermione. Definitely not."

"What makes you say that?"

"Would you prefer the alternative? I'm pretty sure I could turn you real dirty with a few hours and some lingerie."

"I don't really want to see you in lingerie, Malfoy, but thanks for the offer."

"Aww, how disappointing."

_______________________________________________________________________________

Hours later Hermione and Draco were sprawled out around their common room, homework done and nothing to do.

"You know, Granger," Draco said, breaking the silence that had filled the room the past half hour, "we are going to have to figure out how to leave the room without almost killing ourselves."

"Eventually," she replied, eyes still closed. The corner of Draco's lips twitched, his lids remaining shut. His long frame draped over the faded red sofa, one arm cradling his head for a much longed-for nap. Hermione lay on the floor, warming herself by the dull fire. She yawned and lifted her arms above her head, stretching out her body. Draco's eyes cracked open at the sound, and felt a slight twinge in his stomach as he saw her twist and elongate herself, exposing the smallest amount of stomach to his wanton, teenage eyes.

"Malfoy," she said again, ill amused by his stares. His head finally snapped towards her, his gaze focusing from his daydream.

"Hm?" he licked his lips absentmindedly and looked up at her face. Her eyebrow raised and her eyes narrowed, suspicious of his thought.

"I asked you when you wanted to go down to dinner."

"Oh," said Draco. He took another moment to stare off into space, then shrugged and slumped back on the couch. "I don't know, Granger, and I must say that I really don't care."

Hermione rolled her eyes and lay back down on her pillow as well.

_______________________________________________________________________________

_Tap tap tap tap tap._

Hermione's eyes snapped open. She was greeted with the shock of night. The dim ember's glow cast a faint shadow behind the furniture that grew and shrank with the glowing coals. Hermione's mind raced. She did not like the dark. _How did I sleep this long? What time is it? Where is the light? _

"Sleep well?" A voice came from the darkness. Hermione relaxed her grip on her pillow as she registered who the voice beloged to.

"How long was I out?" she asked. Her voice cracked from sleep.

"A few hours," Draco shrugged. He sat on the same couch he lay on hours before.

"What was that tapping?" Draco lifted his pen from the table and tapped it lightly on the wood. The tapping that woke her was identical. "Oh… did we miss dinner?" she asked, stretching.

"Well I couldn't very well go alone, could I?"

Hermione frowned. "Oh… I'm sorry. You should have woken me!" she scolded. Draco looked at her, unsurprised; he shrugged. He turned and headed for their room, Hermione following clumsily behind, still disoriented from sleep.

"Get dressed," he ordered, sitting down on his bed. "I won't look."

"Get dressed for what?"

Draco stared at her for a moment, and the corner of his mouth lifted to form another sly smirk. He lifted himself off his bed and stepped towards her. He leaned forward and their faces were suddenly centimeters apart. Hermione's stomach twisted as she felt his breathe on her lips.

"You cost me my dinner. Now I'm hungry, and it's your fault. Put on something quiet- we're going to the kitchens." He scanned her face for an angry reaction to his orders; his gaze lingered on her lips. She remained still and her breath staggered. His eyes returned to hers and bore into them. She swore she saw them smolder. "Five minutes, Granger."

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	7. 07 FOOD makes you FOOL

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Three Things.  
ONE- OMG I know, I'm putting up another chapter. You must be asking, "So SOON, katherine? Are you sure katherine? Is it ready already katherine?" Which brings me to...  
TWO- I really like this chapter. I really do like this chapter ^_^  
THREE- If anyone knows for a Harry Potter FACT whether Butterbeer is, or is not, alcoholic, or has the same effects as alchohol personality wise, will you please let me know? Review or private messege, whatever. I no care.

PS I love the response i get from this. I started crying when I saw how many views I had. I literally started crying. Then I showed a few friends. I made them see (muahaha!)

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Chapter 07

"I really don't think we should be doing this, Malfoy," Hermione whispered fiercely. She inched along the wall, her shoes tapping silently on the stone floor.

"For the fourth time, Granger, I'm doing this whether you want to or not. If you want to have a seizure and die, then be my guest." He turned to face her. "I, on the other hand, haven't eaten since breakfast. And since I also get cranky and restless when I'm hungry, I plan on keeping you up all night bitching in your face and complaining and moaning until I'm satisfied." And he did that annoying thing again. That get-right-up-to-your-face thing. The one that made Hermione's breath stagger and suddenly question herself frantically as to the last time she had brushed her teeth.

Draco turned and continued walking, hands in his pockets with no apparent cares. Hermione stared at him as they walked, her trailing behind. She took in the changes she saw in him; she studied his evolution. She couldn't help notice that the subtle, almost unapparent alterations made by time had done the most to transform him into the almost completely different person she saw tonight. His previously overconfident swagger had died down with age, and the way he held his head and the smirk once smeared across his face took a back seat to the strangely normal behavior he now exhibited.

Hermione let her hand glide across the rough stone wall as she walked forward. She became frustrated, again, with how much it nagged her. She sensed something had changed in him inwardly, too- that some event had jolted him enough to wake him from his arrogant coma. It tugged at her mind - she thought about it constantly, and it angered her to give him this much power.

But she was too curious to let it go. Ron and Harry had been of little help, of course.

"_Have you guys noticed anything… _different_ about Malfoy lately?" she had asked._

_They turned towards his table and stared at him a good long minute. Hermione saw the intense examination and the deep analysis going on through their eyes. After another half-minute, Harry spoke with wisdom and deep concentration._

"_I believe he is an inch or two taller this year." Ron nodded slowly, as though Harry had just provided an approved answer to a profound philosophical question. Hermione stared at them a moment, honestly surprised. She then scoffed, shook her head, and went back to her meal._

_They were right though,_ she thought, feeling the peaks and valleys of the rock interior as she brushed her fingers against it. _He is a bit taller._

Draco was no stranger to the concept of change. He knew full well that he had changed drastically over this past summer. He had_ her_ to thank for that. But he could also call this blessing a curse, as he had to hide these changes for, at the least, the one last year at Hogwarts. However, Draco actually found himself more interested in Hermione's changes. Her transformation hadn't occurred over this summer alone; he knew hers took many years to complete. He peeked back at her and became amused with her appearance.

She walked slowly, silently, her eyes unfocused and glazed over. Her long pleated skirt moved soundlessly against her knees as she moved one foot, then the other. Her sneakers tapped softly on the floor. Her fuzzy wool sweater bunched on one side as she leaned to the right, her left arm raised, gracing her fingertips along the bumpy castle wall. Her long, wavy hair fell down her back, the firelight of the many candle lamps bringing out subtle shades of red. Though she looked out of it, and not particularly statuesque in her position, to him she still looked a vision of beauty brought out from normalcy. He knew her for years, but never had he really seen her. And now that he could, he felt a wave of fresh guilt wash down upon him.

"I realize I'm dragging you along, Granger, but the whole point of that is so that I can _see_ you and don't _die_, so…." Hermione snapped awake and walked quickly ahead until they strolled along side by side. Hermione clasped her hands together, looking straight forward, and didn't say anything. Draco glanced at her and chuckled, pushing her with his arm, hand still in his pocket.

A small smile broke out across her lips and she relaxed.

_______________________________________________________________________________

To Hermione's great surprise, they hadn't been caught on the way to the kitchens. Draco stopped suddenly in front of the well-known fruit basket picture, whispered the password, and entered the kitchen. Hermione stumbled along behind him, hesitant as to whether the house elves would mention to any of the faculty that they were there.

And then she remembered who she was.

"MALFOY! These are _house elves_, Malfoy, the slaves of the wizard population! We shouldn't be here supporting this! Do you realize the pain and suffering these poor creatures go through during their long and miserable lives?! Do you realize the pain you inflicted on your _own_ elf Dobby?!"

"Does the miss remember poor Dobby?" A small voice squeaked from below her. The familiar wide eyes, the infamous pillow case tunic, the well-remembered mismatched socks, and the inescapably annoying third-person vernacular.

"Yes, Dobby, the miss remembers you," Draco replied, "as does the mister. What's up Dobby, got any biscuits?" he patted the elf on the head, and to Hermione's surprise, this seemed rather commonplace to Dobby. The elf smiled up at Draco, then led the two towards the fireplace. Many other house elves, all with equally large eyes and similar clothing (with exception to the socks), crowded around the couple, offering everything from Butterbeer to pumpkin pie, to large pieces of roast and warm fluffy Yorkshire pudding with butter. Hermione tried to refuse, and at one point tried to force a small female elf to take her shoe (who at that burst into tears) but failed at both acts miserably.

Her stomach grumbled at the sight and smell of all the food around her. She slumped down on the small loveseat couch, and her stomach grumbled. She hadn't eaten all day, not since lunch, and now it was well past midnight. She eyed the Yorkshire pudding hungrily, and had many non-sexual fantasies about what she would do to that pumpkin pie if she got her hands on it.

"Hermione." A voice came from next to her on the loveseat.

"Hmmmm?"

"Eat the damn food."

He didn't have to tell her twice. She thanked each elf profusely, as though each time she looked in their eyes she was making them see that they were equal to her. And with one last plea of gratitude, she bit down on something (she really didn't care what at this point) and fell into heaven.

_______________________________________________________________________________

It took precisely 43 minutes for Hermione to wolf down four Yorkshire pudding, one and a half platefuls of roast beef and potatoes, one full pitcher of Butterbeer, and two large slices of pumpkin pie. By the end of it all, Hermione lay slouched up against Draco, mumbling tiredly about how full she was.

"But it was so gooood," she whined, eyes glazed over. Draco sat on the end of the loveseat, deeply entertained by his drunken partner. "Iwaz hungry, therewaz food, I ate tehfood, now I'b fool. Soooooooo foooool." Draco sniggered. Hermione blushed at his laughing at her; she attempted to right herself.

"Alrigh' alrigh'… I'm done." She started to stand and immediately fell back to the ground.

"Is Butterbeer alcoholic?" Draco asked the nearest house elf. The elf opened its mouth to respond when, by a twisted turn of events, Hermione fell once again, but this time, on top of this specific house elf. It is at this point in the story that we are to assume that this house elf was, unfortunately, the only one who knew the answer to the question of which Draco asked.

"I'm going to get her to bed. Thanks to all of you for all your help and delicious food. We'll be on our way," Draco spoke to the whole of the house elf crowd. Hermione mumbled again from the ground. "Come on, Hermione."

He kneeled down to the ground and pulled Hermione up to a sitting position. She stared at him, her brow creased like a confused and grumpy child. "I'm going to take you home now, okay?" he said to her softly. Her face relaxed, though her stare remained unbroken. She nodded slowly, cautiously. "It's okay, I can carry you." He placed her arm around his neck and pulled her body in to him. The house elves gasped and awed quietly as Draco stood, Hermione wrapped in his arms.

As they left the warm comfort of the fire, Hermione shivered and adjusted herself closer to Draco's warmth. She tiredly buried her face in his neck, taking in the warmth and smell that came off of his skin. Her hands crept along his shoulders, making him shiver. They found comfortable spots: one lay on the back of his neck, subconsciously brushing one finger against the soft skin; the other clutched to the collar of his shirt.

Draco carefully climbed the stairs leading to their room, and even more carefully set her down on her bed. She groaned in her sleep-like state and cracked open her eyes. She saw Draco's face and she smiled.

"Hullo, pretty boy," she said, her voice taking a more baby-like pitch than normal. Draco laughed, still hunched over her from laying her down.

"Hello," he replied.

"You really are a pretty boy."

"Why, thank you."

"I like pretty boys." Her eyes took on a glow in the moonlight that Draco did not recognize.

"I like pretty girls," he said playfully. Hermione giggled.

"Good," was all she said before she pulled his lips down to meet hers. The same bit of collar she had clung to like a child on the way back was now crinkling in her fist, keeping Draco pressed against her. She moved her lips after a long full moment, but just carried the kiss deeper as she moved her other hand down to the small of Draco's back.

Draco was feeling a little more than just shock, however.

A warm glow began to resonate in his lips. When Hermione moved her mouth, the sensation traveled to his tongue and down his abdomen. As Hermione's knuckles brushed against his neck, the feeling moved there as well. His stomach twisted all kinds of ways as she kissed him. It went completely berserk when he realized he was kissing her back. His head had no way of rationally explaining why he was grasping at her fuzzy wool sweater, or why his knee now rested on the bed in between her legs. All his head could do was scream, "Stop! No!! Gahhh!!" completely in vain.

It wasn't until Hermione's grip slackened and her movements slowed that Draco could get a hold of things. The day's exhaustion had finally gotten a hold of her, and she was drifting off to sleep. When her hands fell to her sides, Draco finally felt the panic that had been postponed by shock.

_What. The. Fuuuuck.

* * *

_PPS- WTF is what Draco was thinking.  
PPPS- I LOVE YOU GUYSSS. Give me advice on what you think should happen next. I'm kind of shtuckkk. (only a bit, i just had a great idear)


	8. 08 The Hangover & New Student

Hermione jolted up from the bed, then immediately regretted it. She clutched her head, and lay ever so slowly back down. She felt nauseous. She needed water, but every movement made her want to heave. _If I keep my head still_ she thought slowly, _I can get to my wand and conjure water. Ohhh, this is not fun._ She managed to get some water into her system and sit up, slowly. It wasn't the position she was in, luckily, that was making her feel this way. _Just don't move._

Thinking back on the night before, and what could possibly be the reason for feeling this way, she felt a rush of embarrassment. She remembered all the food she had eaten in front of Draco, the Butterbeer (the thought of which made her rush to the bathroom), and then, quite suddenly, an image popped into her head; more of a feeling, in fact. Glimpses of Draco's neck and shoulders flashed in her mind's eye. She remembered the warmth and a beautiful scent, and her stomach tightened. She remembered falling asleep as Draco carried her to bed. The next image shocked her so horribly; she coughed into the toilet and told herself that her mind must be failing her.

Draco's face, very close to hers. His lips parted. His body hovering over her. Her hand slipping down his back. Her fist tight around his collar. _Holy. Freaking. God._

It had to have been a dream, it must have been. Hermione flipped through her brain's excuse booklet, looking for a logical explanation for this phenomenon. She had had quite a bit of Butterbeer and quite a bit of food. That's it: the combination of her full stomach and the Butterbeer had had a horrible affect on her stomach and was now releasing its insanity into her subconscious. It didn't happen; it was a dream. There.

Extremely satisfied with her explanation, she drank another glass of water and began to walk slowly about, getting dressed. By the time she was done, she had only just noticed that Draco wasn't in her bed. It wasn't late; it was another half hour before breakfast. Her stomach growled (the contents of her stomach had been emptied out once this morning) and though the thought of food was not appetizing, she knew she'd need it.

She saw Draco in the common room, sprawled out on the couch with an arm over his eyes. She thought it'd be best if she snuck out and met him downstairs, but the thought of a peaceful walk alone was shattered when she remembered their curse. She decided to sit quietly in the chair next to the couch he was occupying until he woke up. That seemed simple enough.

It was, in reality, rather boring. A full five minutes passed with her just sitting there, watching him sleep, before she decided that she wanted to kill him. His shoes had fallen near the couch end where he had taken them off, but he was otherwise fully dressed. Hair hung down where his arm hadn't covered his face. She became all too annoyed for further silence and cleared her throat very loudly, while at the same time pushing his leg with her foot. Draco's eyes burst open with a sudden intake of breath. He stretched a little, then recoiled suddenly, realizing that Hermione was sitting there.

"…Hi," he said, voice slightly rougher than usual from sleep.

"Hey," Hermione said. She showed no signs of severe awkwardness (just the usual amount from the fact that they were supposed to inhabit the same premises when they really, originally, did not like each other). _Maybe she doesn't remember_, Draco thought.

"Can we go down to breakfast? I need to eat something solid," she said.

Draco hesitated. "…Sure."

"Do you need to change?"

"Not really. I'll shower when we get back." He began to sit up, running his fingers through his hair a few times to tame it. Hermione blushed inwardly at the thought of him showering.

"Okay, let's just… go."

_____________________________________________________

"I don't like this Hermione," Harry said, eyeing Draco angrily. "I don't like it at all."

Hermione had just finished telling Harry and Ron about them going down to the kitchens for food. They had been worried that she had missed dinner.

"What's the big deal, Harry? Fred and George used to go down to the kitchen loads of times, you never got angry about that," Ron said. Hermione had conveniently left out the part about the Butterbeer, Draco carrying her to bed, and her strange…"dream".

"Malfoy's going to get you into trouble Hermione, I think you should only hang out with him around us. I don't trust him."

"Well I don't either, Harry, but you're going to have to trust me. What will people think if they see Draco hanging around all three of-"

"Draco?! Since when has he been 'Draco'?" Harry's volume was rising.

"Since I decided to call him that! _Why_ are you getting so angry?" Hermione's face was flushing with anger. How dare he speak to her about Draco like that? Draco didn't do anything wrong!

"I have to go," Harry said darkly, and walked furiously from the room.

Ron sat awkwardly at the table. "The _nerve_ of him!" Hermione fumed. "Can you believe him Ron?"

Ron continued to sit, trying very hard to not take sides. He stared at him plate. Quietly, hoping to avoid Hermione's wrath, he said "He's just really worried about you. Harry has dealt more with Malfoy over the years than we have, and it's all been bad. Just be patient with him, okay? He's not good at being calm about this kind of thing, you know that."

Hermione's anger melted away. Ron was right.

"I can't help thinking, though, Ron… something is _different_ about him. Honestly, different. I can feel it."

Ron shrugged and fell back onto his seat, taking an indifferent bite of his apple.

________________________________________________________________

Hermione tried harder to be nice to Harry at Herbology that morning. He smiled softly at her when she said hello brightly and hardly noticed when Draco walked in and sat two tables over. There was a dull murmur of curiosity and an array of confused looks when he took his seat. Especially considering this class was formed entirely out of Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs.

Draco ignored all the stares and let off an air of security and coolness. Some of the students began to whisper to each other that "of course he's in this class" and that "I heard his father got Dumbledore to switch his schedule so he could sleep in longer". All the theories were, of course, preposterous. But upon hearing them Hermione did, however, suddenly realize that Dumbledore had not given them an excuse for switching around their classes.

Professor Sprout walked into the room, and all eyes turned to Draco. "Alright, settle down, settle down. Good morning, class! Now, as you can all see we have a new student here today. Now, as he's in your year, you should all be well acquainted by now, but in case any of you are unfamiliar, this is Draco Malfoy from Slytherin House. He and Miss Hermione Granger, here, from Gryffindor are partaking in a special little experiment here at Hogwarts."

At this, the greenhouse rumbled with excitement as the students out of the loop began to wonder aloud about what the experiment may be.

"Settle!" Professor Sprout ordered, tapping her wand on the table in front of her. "Nothing to get too excited about. We're just trying out a little house intermingling. Mr. Malfoy and Miss Granger will be taking classes with both of their houses, one of their houses, and none of their houses, just to see in which environment they excel most in. As these two are top of their houses, they were, of course, the best choices to pick."

"Why wasn't one of us picked?" a put-out looking Hufflepuff girl shouted. "We have top students too!"

Professor Sprout did not look ready for this. Hermione was forced to improvise. "Because!" she choked out. Unfortunately, this was all she had come up with so far.

A deeply bored sigh sounded from behind her. "_Because_ one student from every house would have been too difficult to manage. And as soon as all you whiny arses are satisfied, someone else will speak up and cry 'discrimination'. 'Not enough girls,' you'll whine, 'Not enough blondes' 'not enough fifth years' 'not enough first years', you'll never all be satisfied. Two students, seventh years, top in the school. Simple and easy."

The class turned to Professor Sprout to see if she would yell at him for speaking that way. To their surprise, she did nothing but nod her head violently and stammer out a "Yes, yes, that is precisely right." Hermione did her best to look sure of herself and nod in agreement.

Either way, this was going to be a lonnnnggg term.


	9. 09 Ummm hi

Hiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii. I know (KAYLA) I was supposed to post this up _yesterday_ but i wouldn't allow myself until I could be absolutely certain that I know what I'm was going to do with chapter 10. Now I know, so here you are :)

I completely forgot how much I ADORE writing this fic. Or writing in general haha. I hope you guys like it, and I hope it doesn't sound too forced. I've been writing non stop for a few days and keep rewriting and blahhhh so :p Anyway, I probably won't ahve chpater 10 up until at least monday, depending on how much reading I have to do for school. Though I hope you guys like it! :)

Oh, to Jess (to whom I couldn't reply because she reviewed as a guest): Yayyy, you're british :) and yes, I did read the confessions of georgia nicolson series at the time of me writing my first fanfic. And I'm glad you found my fics too! :) I hope you feel better, and I hope I used all the British terms you're referring too correctly. Oh, and by the way, the way you guys spell 'jail' is so strange! Though, I've been told that it's the way they spelled it as far back as ye olde englishe times, so yay gaol!

Anyway, Read and Review and Whatever :) Have funnn (Kayla, you'll love this chapter, then hate me afterwards).

_______________________________________________________________________________________________________

The first week went by rather slowly. Hermione and Draco took turns going to each other's classes, and even went to ones with neither of their houses attending. They were getting rather bored with the same explanation, which luckily only needed to be repeated by teachers, and not by Draco or Hermione. By Friday, both students were very happy to be lying in their room with nothing but the weekend ahead of them, strange "dreams" practically forgotten.

Well, almost. Hermione lie down on her soft bed and couldn't help but remember the thoughts she had had, no matter how "subconscious" she assumed they were. She turned her head and stared at the side of her bed. There, she had dreamed her body lay, with Draco over her, enveloping her. There she had smelled his scent and felt his kiss. There she had -cough- _dreamt_ that they had embraced for a soft moment. And though she _knew_ it wasn't possible, it didn't stop her from wondering what it would be like if it was.

Of course, _Draco_ had not forgotten about the kiss. He sat on his bed and remembered the way she looked at him and the way her eyes danced in the moonlight. He hadn't forgotten at all. He turned his head and look at her from across their chamber. There, her body had lay, with him over her, enveloping her. There he had smelled her scent and felt her kiss. There, like a dream, they had embraced for a soft moment. He felt a slight pang of guilt and worry in the pit of his stomach. He felt as though he had taken advantage of her! He also felt as though he was betraying the only woman he had ever cared for… what would Nanette think?

His thoughts were interrupted by a moan from the opposite side of the room. Hermione was stretching; she was stiff for lying down so long. She elongated her torso and lifted her arms over her head. Draco felt a rush of heat through his body as he saw a flash of skin as her shirt was lifted past her bellybutton.

"So," he said, voice cracking slightly. He cleared his throat, and then continued talking to distract himself from Hermione's skin. "I'd like to get down to dinner on _time_ tonight, if you don't mind Granger."

Hermione scoffed. "When, other than Monday night, did I prevent us from getting down to dinner on time?"

She was right, but he couldn't let her know that. "I'm just saying, Hermione, you tend to be a little on the slow side."

"You had better be talking about my walking pace."

"I'm just saying."

"What _are_ you saying?" she asked.

"I'm just saying."

"You say that one more time I'm going to curse your mouth off you. I'm just saying," she jokingly threatened. Draco laughed. He turned his head towards her again; this time she was looking at him, too. They stared at each other for a moment, not being able (and not wanting) to look away. Hermione felt warmth behind her eyes she had never felt before. Her face began to feel as though sun was shining through an open window, directly onto her skin. Hermione's eyes danced again in front of him, and he was completely taken, until a sharp and familiar tapping broke the spell again.

_______________________________________________________________________

"I apologize for asking you to miss part of your dinner, but I have recently discovered something I feel you should know," Dumbledore spoke calmly. He sat at his desk, papers scattered in front of him. Hermione's stomach twisted at Dumbledore's somber tone. "It seems," he began again, "that the spell performed on you also reported use three years ago in Spain. We aren't sure at this time if the witch and wizard involved are now healed, but I will be going tomorrow to investigate a lead as to where they are now."

Hermione wasn't sure how to take this news. "What does this mean Professor?"

"At this time, Hermione, we can't be sure. Though their situation seems to be as close as we have to yours, nothing is certain. However, I would take this as good news. They may or may not be healed, but it's a start to finding out how to make this right."

Hermione and Draco sat, unsure. Dumbledore quietly stared at them, waiting for more questions. He then pulled a short stack of parchment off his desk.

"Take this with you. You may find it helpful." Draco took the papers as Hermione stared at the floor. They stood up, thanked the Headmaster, and left.

________________________________________________________________________

Outside the Headmaster's door, Draco and Hermione stood. "Here," Draco said, handing the sheaf of paper to her. "I don't want to know."

Hermione took it reproachfully, and looked it over. As they walked towards the Great Hall, she looked through what she discovered to be the other couple's case file. Draco walked quietly beside her, seeming quite content.

Apparently, the young witch and wizard cursed were two years older when they were attacked than Hermione & Draco were now. They moved after the attack to Granada, Spain and had no previous connection with one another before the spell. They had been in Madrid and had run into one another down an empty side street when attacked.

Hermione nodded to herself. She did enjoy not feeling quite so alone in this mess. Though she couldn't help imagining her and Draco in that same scene, mirroring it with their attack on the train, worrying next to a stranger for your life.

The medical file attached to the Ministry report listed the symptoms the first two had felt. Most were effects Hermione had already been told about: headaches, difficulty sleeping, and seizures. She felt a dull wave of relief at the absence of "death" on the list.

There were some new symptoms, too. "Patient 1 feels an increase in temperature in the area where Patient 2 touches Patient 1." "Patient 2 shows signs of increased distress when Patient 1 is in apparent harm." Nothing she hadn't already guessed. She shut the file, frustrated, and walked silently on. For now, Hermione guessed, most of what was going on between her and her former enemy would have to remain a clouded mystery. She looked up at Draco brushing blonde hair from his face and turned away, embarrassed. She could only hope it would begin to make sense soon.

_______________________________________________________________________

Hermione trudged through the hallway, feeling heavy and dizzy. She slammed one hand onto the stone wall to keep from falling over and murmured dreamily. A portrait moved out of the way and Hermione grabbed at the sides of the entrance, tugging herself forward. She let out a low moan of pain.

"Ohhhhhhh…"

"Oh shut up, Granger, you're the one who chose to have the second piece of pie. Do you always eat that much?"

"Soooo fullllll," she moaned louder this time.

"At least you aren't tipsy this time."

Hermione pulled herself slowly through the common room and towards her and Draco's room. Draco walked impatiently behind her, as she was holding onto both walls of the hallway. "Will you get a move on?" he snapped. Hermione looked up at him grumpily and formed an exaggerated frowny face across her lips. She felt awful; she had a horrible habit of overeating when she was an emotion in the extreme. Tonight, her frustration with the case file was enough to make anybody call to food for support.

Hermione opened the door and flopped down on the first bed she came to. Unfortunately for Draco, his bed was right by the door. And with a nice little "fwoomp", his bed was thus commandeered by the witch in the tennis shoes.

"Ohhh, no. No, no, no, you are NOT crashing here, this is my bed!" Hermione, face buried in pillow, attempted to reply, but nothing understandable came out. "Come onnnnn," Draco whined. Finally submitting, he lay at the foot of the bed, waiting patiently until she decided to get up to undress and go to sleep.

They lay together a few minutes before Hermione rolled over onto her back. Her hand lay lazily over her slightly swollen belly as she stared up to the dark ceiling.

"What are you thinking about?" Draco asked. Startled by his voice in the darkness, she sat up. The moonlight shown dimly across the room, though, and she could just make out the pale face looking up at her. She leaned her back against the wall and looked out across the dark room.

"I don't know," she replied heavily. "What are you thinking about?"

Draco stretched and looked as though he was thinking hard. "I'm thinking…" he began, stroking his chin, "I'm thinking that I'd like my bed back." Hermione laughed and attempted to kick him off the bed. Shoving him with her foot, he grabbed her leg before he fell. Hermione, laughing, tried to kick his arms off her leg, but in doing so, got her other leg caught in his arms as well. Draco was simply trying to NOT get hit in the face.

They began to fight like children, Hermione pushing and Draco blocking. As he released her legs to defend his face from her hands, she stood up on her knees and tried to punch him lightly in the stomach to make him fall over. His abs were clenched, though, and with a flush of heat to her cheeks, she realized that there was no hurting him there. Determined to stop thinking such thoughts, she suddenly pushed with all her might. He fell down onto the mattress, Hermione straddling him, holding his wrists in her hands.

They stayed there a moment or two, staring at each other through the dim light. Their chests heaved; the two were almost sweating from their activity. Hermione very suddenly became conscious of where she was and let go of Draco's wrists. "I-I'm sorry," she stammered. She started to get off the bed, but a light force prevented her. She looked back over to Draco, and found he was pulling on her hand. His eyes did that smoldering thing they often did when the two were in _very_ close contact, and she found that she very much liked it.

She allowed herself to be pulled back onto him, who was now so lost in her presence that he had no idea what he was doing. He just knew that wherever she touched, he felt happiness he hadn't felt since _her_, and not even the thought of that took it away. Her hand, now in his, shifted until their fingers were intertwined. His other hand found her cheek and pulled slightly, as he lifted himself upward. They were now both sitting upright, and so close, their breath almost condensed on each other's noses from the heat radiating between them. Hermione let her eyes drop down to his lips for only a split second, but it was more a request than Draco needed.

Slowly and delicately, their lips grazed. The adrenaline that ran through Hermione's body at this made her stop breathing altogether. Her eyes closed; she was completely lost in the sensation. Their lips found contact again, but this time in one full kiss. Hermione felt light-headed and her stomach was reeling, but in a way that she never wanted to stop.

Their hands detached. One of Draco's hands lay on Hermione's leg, while the other found her back. Hermione's hands drifted to Draco's shoulders, one hung around his neck, grabbing gently on his hair, and the other lay tiredly on his shoulder. As their lips drew together again, Draco fell back onto the bed, and the hand that was on her leg moved to her neck to pull her with him. His hand drifted up and down her back, feeling her through her shirt.

Hermione felt warm everywhere, like this was where she needed to be, right here with him, connected to him somehow. She felt his hand glide down her back again and lift her shirt up with his thumb. He wanted to feel her there, to touch soft skin and feel her blood flowing. His finger barely touched her lower back when a sharp bolt of electricity shocked them both into yelling aloud. Hermione looked down to where she was and with a gasp, she sat upright. Avoiding Draco's eyes, she stumbled off him and shoved herself into the corner.

"Umm… hi."


	10. 10 Hi, Hermione!

Herrooooo. So, I've scheduled my classes next semester to exclude any heavy literature-reading classes because I want to read my own damn books. And write fanfiction. I've decided that my dream (oh my god, I have one, I feel like SUCH a girl) is so write novels and become Nora Roberts-Famous. NOT JK Rowling or Stephanie Meyer famous. God, that's scary. Though if people love what I write THAT much, there could be no way that I would feel unhappy about it.

I'm in the middle of writing chapter 11 right now, which i had some trouble with. That's why this is up so late, by the way. But I think I have chapter 11 almost finished, so it should be up within the next couple weeks. Thank you soooo much if you're reading this and don't hate it. You make me more happy than you will ever realize. Remember to review if you have questions or critiques! I want to improve my writing as much as I can, but I need feedback to do it! Thank youuuus.

Shout out to my boyfrannnn cuz he's purtyyyy :]

* * *

This was very uncomfortable. By now, Hermione had fallen asleep in her bed, but Draco lay tossing and turning in his. He stared up at the ceiling now, wide awake, and quite sexually frustrated. Even more so, he was emotionally frustrated. He was angry with himself for being brought down to that level by _Hermione_. _That's what you get_, he thought, letting himself fall into gloom, _for letting your guard down. That's what you get for letting yourself-_

He stopped thinking quickly. He almost allowed himself to say that he… no, he couldn't. Draco Malfoy would _not_ admit to the "liking" of Hermione Granger. No matter how much she had attempted to change him, an attraction toward an enemy was simply absurd. He refused. He did not like her.

Still, kissing her was nice. She had very soft lips. He glared. _Every girl has soft lips_ he thought angrily, still attempting to keep his stomach from jumping every time he thought about it. He thought of Nanette, which calmed him. She had had soft lips, too; the softest. Overcome by a sudden wave on sadness, Draco reached over to his nightstand and pulled the drawer open. Under all the junk, from the very bottom, he pulled out a small red box. He opened it, pulled out a small gold ring. Fighting back tears, he slipped it only his little finger and drifted off to sleep.

* * *

This was _indeed_ very uncomfortable. Hermione, though Draco seemed not to notice, also lay awake. Though she had made it seem as though she was quiet and still, breathing deeply, as one does when they're unconscious, she was actually thinking very hard about how to make sure than Draco would never be on her mind again. So far, all she could think of was stabbing him in the forehead. That simply wouldn't do.

She, being the analytical type, kept coming back to the same question: _What_ was that shock they felt? He had touched her before, was it a punishment set on by the spell? Were they drawn to each other _because_ of the spell, and then pushed away from one another? That certainly would be a form of dark magic, torturing couples like that.

She wasn't sure what to make of it, though. Meaning she wasn't sure whether she was disappointed or glad that they were stopped. She was very much afraid of how they were progressing; she had kissed a boy or two in her time, of course- but she had never felt so charged and she had never wanted someone so close to her so badly. She was glad she was given an excuse to stop; though, she admitted to herself, she would have settled for simply slowing down.

Hermione was a mature enough person to admit when something she had known almost half of her life was wrong. _Draco Malfoy is a pretty boy_, she thought. _There: I said it._ But it didn't stop her from remembering all the times that he was an evil ferret, and those times didn't appear to end. Conflicted and sleepy, Hermione settled on repeating the phrase _Draco Malfoy is a pretty ferret_ to herself until she drifted to sleep.

* * *

The rest of the weekend, despite Draco and Hermione's hopes that it would be relaxing, proved to be quite stressful. Both students attempted to avoid each other all weekend, but seeing as how they were forced to maintain close contact with one another at all time, it was a tad difficult. Often, they almost ran into each other as they tried to keep their heads down, avoiding eye contact. And each time this happened, their hearts raced and their breath caught in their throats as they anticipated another painful shock of electricity.

No shocks came that weekend, however, and Monday rolled around once again. Hermione and Draco found themselves in Potions that morning, Gryffindors on one side of the room and Slytherins on the other. Harry had quickly stolen the seat next to Hermione on the Gryffindor side, shooting a glare at Draco. Draco, obviously taking this as a challenge, moved from his original spot by corner to the seat on the Slytherin side of her. Hermione blushed when he took his seat. Draco, not breaking eye contact with Harry, gave her an exaggeratedly excited "Hi, Hermione!" and Harry fumed.

The two sitting next to each other didn't stop them from feeling increasingly awkward towards one another. Each time Hermione moved to grab something from her bag, Draco tensed his entire body. He gradually scooted his chair a little away from her, though they kept making eye contact for fleeting moments.

For the first time ever, Hermione's heart leapt for joy when Snape called everyone to form groups of three to begin their cauldron work. Hermione jumped up and practically squealed, "Harry! Ron! Let's go!" She didn't look back as they headed towards one side of the room; though (for the sake of the curse of _course_) she made sure she faced Draco's side of the room.

"Are you alright today Hermione?" Harry asked, looking concerned. She sure looked great today. Her cheeks were flushed bright pink and her eyes twinkled.

"Yes, Harry, of course I'm alright," she said, smiling, "though I would like to say something to you two."

Harry and Ron looked up from their textbooks and waited for Hermione to speak.

"I'm really sorry I haven't been spending very much time with you two. I wish I could, but with having to be constantly around Draco, I don't see how we can be together." Harry spent probably too much energy thinking about the way she said _we can be together_. "I just know that if you were around him as much as I am right now, you'd absolutely kill him. And until we know what kind of affect that will have on me, I'm afraid I can't let that happen."

Ron was the first to speak. "Yeah, sure, we get it. No hard feelings 'Mione. I mean, I'd like to hang out with you and all, but if it's going to give you seizures, I don't like you that much." His humor comforted Hermione. Harry, feeling as though he had no humor in him at _all_, simply nodded and stammered.

"Oh, yeah, sure, why not, we get it, no problem, have fun, if you can, know what I mean?"

Hermione looked at Harry strangely, they smiled. It was a beautiful smile. "Thanks so much you guys, you really mean a lot to me. I'm going to get the ingredients we don't have, I'll be right back."

As Hermione walked away, Ron leaned in towards Harry. " 'Have fun, if you can, know what I mean?' What is wrong with you, man?"

"I know, I know," Harry pleaded, "She just looks really pretty today! I mean her eyes-"

"Hey, whoa, whoa, whoa," Ron interrupted, putting his hands up like ear muffs. "She's practically my sister; you want to date her, fine. But I don't want to hear about it."

* * *

Over by the ingredient's cabinet, Hermione cheerfully plucked jars and bottles off the wall, measuring carefully and perfectly (as Hermione tends to do). It wasn't until she heard a soft clearing of the throat behind her that her mood faltered.

Draco squeezed his way in next to her, leaning far over her to grab bottles way out of reach. They weighed in silence, avoiding talking, until Hermione was done at the cabinet.

"Y-you didn't have to do that you know," Hermione said quietly, mustering up the courage to break their long awkward avoidance of one another. When Draco looked at her curiously, she gained confidence and looked at him sternly. "You didn't have to be rude to Harry and fight over me like children. You could pretend that you're better than that."

And she turned and left.


	11. 11 I am

Sooo, this chapter is six pages long, though I'm not sure how much I like it. I feel like it jumps around too much and maybe carries on rather boringly. What do you guys think?

ALSO, IMPORTANT QUESTION: Are there any big holidays between Halloween and Christmas in England? Like, do the HP kiddies celebrate any? Cuz I don't remember... I need to add some comic relief in this damn thing lol I miss Hermione being drunk :p Anywayyy, started on Chapter 12, but not sure when it'll be up. Please R&R!

* * *

Hermione and Draco easily settled into a simple routine over the next month. Their encounter on Draco's bed and Hermione's short reprimand had made them very wary of one another. They simply stayed out of each other's way, and while it was a very productive means of living, it was also a lonely one. Draco and Hermione never spoke except to request a bathroom break or to ask if the other wanted to go down to dinner.

Today, Hermione found herself sitting on her bed, staring out at the grounds as the crisp autumn weather took hold. It was nearing Halloween; the leaves were changing colors and the air was getting chiller. She found herself to be increasingly lonely, and as much as she loved the fall weather, she was distracted by a severe longing to return to the normalcy she had known before Draco.

Hermione sighed. She, Harry, and Ron had always taken long walks on the grounds this time of year, talking about exams, classes, Halloween. Hermione looked back fondly on one particular day when Hermione and Harry had tried to explain Trick-or-Treating to Ron.

"_Well, you see, you go door to door, in costume, and you say 'trick or treat' and they give you candy. It's all very good fun."_

"_Actually, Harry, it dates back to Ancient Greek times. You see, the Greeks believed that the souls of the dead would be calmed if they were allowed to spend a night or two among the living. So they came down to the spring festival at Athens to beg for food, and if they were denied, they'd cause harm. Hence, 'trick or treat'!"_

"_Wait, are we giving food to angry ghosts, or are we getting it? And isn't Halloween in October?"_

"_Hermione, you're confusing him."_

"_Well, if you two read more often, you would know exactly what I was talking about, wouldn't you?"_

Hermione smiled, and then sighed, thinking of many traditions that may have to be broken this year. She glanced across the room. Draco sat on his bed reading a book. He looked peaceful, except that he would occasionally raise and eyebrow or glare down at the page when something happened that he didn't like.

"Hey," Hermione said, staring out the window again. Draco looked up from the text. "Take a walk with me."

* * *

It wasn't until Hermione and Draco were at the exit onto the grounds that Draco stopped being curious. "Hermione!" he exclaimed, pulling her back. "We can't go out there. What are people going to say if they see us together? Let's just go back to the room, okay?"

Hermione felt a stab of disappointment followed closely by a flush of anger. "Fine. You can stay inside and be a baby. But I'm not going back into that room until I've reconfirmed my suspicion that there IS a world out there." She stomped out onto the grounds and let the sun warm her. The light breeze flowed through her hair, and for the first time in weeks, she felt like she was breathing.

Draco couldn't help but stare. Her posture had changed drastically, and her eyes danced in the fading sunlight. He followed behind her until the sun set and it was time to go into the Hall.

"C'mon," Draco said, still feeling a bit awkward towards Hermione. They headed to dinner. Draco went in first, Hermione following in shortly after. The Hall was strangely quiet, and most eyes were turned toward the head of the Hall. Dumbledore stood there.

"I have an announcement to make," he called, his voice faintly echoing off the stone walls. "As you all know, Halloween is only three weeks away. Therefore, now would be the perfect time to inform you that this Halloween, Hogwarts will play host to a new event! We are to have an All Hollow's Eve Masque." Sound erupted from the halls.

"Unfortunately," Dumbledore continued, always able to subdue even the most outrageous of audiences. "Not every student will be permitted to join in this year. Like the Yule Ball we hosted three years ago, only students of their fourth year and up will be allowed to attend." The crowds roared again, this time in anger. Dumbledore simply shrugged and said calmly, "There is always next year."

From that moment leading up to Halloween, nothing was talked about more than the upcoming masquerade ball. Teenage girls babbled away to one another about what they were to dress up as and how they were to look prettier than a rival student. Rumors also flew through the halls about loopholes regarding the spells of a wizard masquerade. Typically, a spell would be placed on the location of the Masque so that no one wearing a mask could be recognized unless they spoke their own name out loud.

Students around the school hoped to find a way around the spell so one could screen their dance partner before getting too attached, hoping to avoid any embarrassing discoveries at the end of the night.

The day of Halloween was most hectic. Female students in the upper years were seen running around from house common room to house common room, and an emergency Hogsmeade visit was allowed a few hours before the ball for final preparations. Both reluctant, Draco and Hermione went along in order to keep up appearances. Head Boy and Head Girl, as Professor McGonagall had been sure to announce, would be required to accompany the few teachers able to go. Most teachers, however, would have to stay behind in order to properly prepare the Hall.

Draco and Hermione trudged along, cool autumn wind blowing through the trees lining the high street. Leaves fell all around them, and Hermione stepped out of her straight path to step on the extra crunchy ones. When she hopped onto a particularly good one, Draco looked at her in slight amusement. "What are you doing?" he asked, maintaining his perfect line of travel.

"I'm crunching leaves, what does it look like?" Hermione replied, not taking her eyes off the ground. Draco shrugged, but stepped on a small pile when Hermione wasn't looking. He smiled quietly to himself, but further resisted the temptation. "So…" Hermione began, "What are you dressing up as?" This was yet another clever, however more direct, attempt to find out Draco's secret. He had tried to find out what she was going as many times before as well, though neither of them had given in.

"Well, I was thinking of going as a leaf, but I'm not sure if I'd survive the night with you around," Draco replied sarcastically. A series of excited screams coming from a nearby shop interrupted their banter. Hermione rolled her eyes.

"I hate girls," she said, abandoning her murderous rampage on the foliage-ridden ground.

"Really," Draco asked, pretending to be surprised, "because I just love them."

"That's a shame then Malfoy, because they certainly don't love you," she shot back, sticking her tongue out at him. Hermione was tired of being around younger students- especially the girls. She had her costume done weeks ago, and she felt that she shouldn't be punished with screaming and babysitting just because _she_ could plan ahead. "Let's just get this day over with Malfoy. I want to go home."

* * *

The Hall was packed with people for dinner, though none were in costume just yet. The fifth-, sixth-, and seventh-year students were all discussing the night to come, while the younger kids sulked behind their plates. Hermione sat with Harry and Ron, glancing at Draco from time to time. Harry and Ron were discussing the masquerade as well, and how glad they were that dates were not required.

"But that's the point of a masquerade, isn't it?" Ron said, mouth full of potatoes. "To hook up with someone when you have no idea who it is?"

"If you want to be a boy-slut, Ron, yes, that is the point," Hermione replied, exasperated.

"Well, isn't that what Malfoy's doing then?" Harry asked.

Hermione shrugged. "He hasn't told me any of his business, and I haven't told him any of mine."

The Halloween Masque was scheduled to start at 9:30, to go on until midnight. Hermione locked herself in the bathroom at 8:30 and shouted to Draco through the door for the next hour. She styled her natural curls, pulling half of her hair up into a small bun and letting the other half fall past her shoulders. She wore a long strapless black and red corset dress and a matching mask to cover her eyes. The professors insisted that special precautions were taken so that the masks would only work inside the Hall during the time set for the masquerade.

At 9:30, Draco shouted through the door, "Are you ready yet? It only takes a few minutes to get downstairs. If you hurry, you can just meet me there, I want to leave." Hermione stared at her reflection and smiled to herself, fangs poking out from where her two canine teeth had been.

"Yeah, I'm ready; I'll see you down there." Hermione waited until she heard the portrait swing back to its place before she opened the bathroom door. Her heels clicked on the ground on the way out, and before she knew it she was entering the Great Hall.

* * *

The atmosphere was similar to the Yule Ball three years earlier, though it was much darker now. The Yule Ball had been bright and filled with fake snow and ice. Tonight, the only light in the Hall shone from the hundreds of black and silver candles overhead and the occasional bolt of lightning from the storm outside. Music echoed through the halls, and swarms of people ran about from table to table. A tap on Hermione's shoulder frightened her, and she spun around to see an unfamiliar face.

"Hermione?" the boy whispered, in a voice much like one she knew. She nodded, avoiding saying her own name out loud.

"Harry?" she whispered back. The other boy shook his head. "Ron?" He nodded. Hermione smiled.

"Nice fangs," Ron said. "You're not going to bite me, are you?" Hermione laughed.

"Not if you're nice." Another person tapped her on the shoulder now. She turned and asked the new boy, "Harry?" and he nodded. She was glad she could now recognize her two favorite boys. She felt significantly less alone. Harry's heart skipped a beat as he looked at her. She looked so… _sexy_. The fangs, the hair, the dress: they made her look dangerous, but still perfect. Harry had a hard time keeping his mouth closed as she stood in front of him.

"I have to find Draco!" Hermione yelled over the amplified music. Ron and Harry nodded, and she walked off. Holding up her slightly puffed-out skirt, she wandered aimlessly through the crowd, waiting to recognize Draco and for her headache to fade.

"And you are...?" A sultry voice tickled her ear. Hermione spun around, startled. She found a boy whom she, of course, did not recognize. He dressed as the Phantom from Phantom of the Opera, white porcelain mask covering the 'disfigured' part of his face. Hermione had read way too much Jane Austen to not feel a sense of prickled excitement at the sight of his eighteenth-century costume. The green satin vest elongated his torso, and the white long sleeves and high collar reminded her _way_ too much of the dangers of Wickham and Willaby. She felt like a gigantic nerd as she looked over the young man's costume and the parts of his face that were visible. It all looked very familiar. Her headache dissipated, through she noticed nothing.

"It wouldn't be a masquerade if you knew who I was," she said coyly. "Is the Phantom tired of wearing his mask already?"

"The real Phantom would, I imagine. One can't hide who they are forever." He stared at her with piercing gray eyes and smiled a flirtatious half-smile. "And you can't hide either, Vampiress. The fact that you even know who the Phantom is means that you're Muggle-born or a Muggle-lover... I'll figure you out."

Hermione smirked and looked back into his eyes. "You can try."

He smirked evilly, though Hermione felt somewhere in her gut that it was more lighthearted than it appeared. He held out his hand, and she took it. The mysterious Phantom led her onto the dance floor and then pulled her in, holding both his cape and the small of her back with his right hand. Hermione placed her hand in his, and she was glad he had left his hands ungloved. They were soft, but strong, and he led her with ease.

The music was dark to match the holiday theme. Hermione found it difficult to draw her eyes away from his. Heat seemed to radiate off her skin as they moved about the dance floor. Her skin glowed in the candlelight, and her chocolate eyes seemed to twinkle mischievously with every turn.

Draco was very tempted to pull the mask away and show this girl who he was. Even more so, he wanted to pull hers off to know HER. Her vampire fangs seemed to add the tiniest hint of danger to her all-over more beautiful persona. She was playful and intelligent, and way too familiar.

"You dance well," he said, making conversation. She smiled.

"As do you."

Draco shifted the position of his hand so that their fingers intertwined, and he dipped her. She laughed.

"I swear I know that laugh," the Phantom shouted over the music. Hermione cocked her head to the side.

"Do you now. I'm sure I've never met any Phantom before. Do you think you might be in my potions class?" she giggled.

He smirked his devilish smile at her. They stared at each other for a long time; the humor in Hermione's eyes faded. The moonlight shining through the dark clouds seemed to reflect off her skin, making her seem supernatural.

Draco pulled Hermione closer to him by pulling on the small of her back. Now even closer than before, Hermione felt a deep, sexual energy between them.

"Tell me your name," he said. They slowly stopped swaying and for the first time that night, Hermione felt hesitant. "Tell me SOMETHING," Draco insisted, chuckling.

"Why do you want to know me so badly?" Hermione asked. Her eyes showed confusion and a need for understanding.

Draco shrugged. "Who says I do?" His confident tone was playful, and the seriousness and sincerity he had displayed a moment earlier difted away. Her question had frightened him, and he immediately shut himself down.

Hermione, afraid of being hurt, didn't aim to force him away. She suddenly felt as though she had been rejected herself, a deep cold feeling held at the pit of her stomach. She took a deep breath, attempting to cleanse herself of her negativity.

Leaning in, she whispered in his ear, "I am..."


	12. 12 Fights

Hi everybodyyyyyyy. Wow, it took me a while to get back in the mood of writing again (and on a really harsh cliffhanger too- my bad). I hope you guys like it! Reviews and such are, of course, ALWAYS appreciated. By the way, it took so long because i wrote it, but then rewrote it. So this is the third version of this chapter haha. Leave in the reviews what you'd like to see happen, and I'll see if I can fit any of it in. I don't know exactly where this is going to go, so it's pretty flexible at this point :)

I love you all! Each and every one of you, genuinely :]

* * *

Fights

"I am-"

"Hey!" Hermione and Draco broke apart, startled. Harry stood a few feet away, looking stern. "Is there a problem here?" Hermione recognized him at once, and was not pleased.

"I think I've got it," Draco said coolly, pulling Hermione back into him. "Thanks, though." Sarcasm dripped from his words. Hermione felt the smallest bit of guilt over the look on Harry's face, especially as Draco waved Harry away like an annoying fly in his ear.

Then fist connected with face.

"Harry!" Hermione screamed as Draco flew from her arms. She had no time to help him up, though- Draco sprung to his feet and tackled Harry to the ground. The music blared through the magical speakers, masking Hermione's pleas for peace. Hundreds of eyes found their way to the fight in the center of the dance floor. Shouts of egging-on, toward one boy or the other, eventually became loud enough to alert members of staff.

Hermione, shaking, pulled out her wand. "_P-protego_!" An invisible barrier expanded between the quarreling pair, forcing them apart, costumes ripped and masks thrown aside. Hermione gasped as she looked down on the pair.

"Malfoy! Potter!" McGonagall shrieked. She pointed out the door. "NOW!" Draco and Harry looked at each other with disgust, unsurprised that they wound up fighting each other. Harry's mind couldn't help but flip through the series of images it had taken of Draco and Hermione earlier: his arm around her waist; his hand in hers; the way they looked at each other, flirting with their eyes. Harry wiped the blood from under his nose, and got to his feet to follow.

Hermione was staring at Draco. "You?" she whispered; the music had stopped. Draco stared back. "You make it sound like a bad thing," he replied, smiling slightly. Though his mouth was bloody and a cut on his cheek was dripping onto his robes, he still looked light hearted and overall unphased. Hermione's mask was still on her face. She tugged on the ribbon and pulled the mask away; several people gasped around her, but she didn't notice. Draco looked at her, but did not look angry as she had expected. He shrugged, said, "I thought so," and followed McGonagall out the door.

"Hermione," Harry started, walking towards her. She threw her mask at him and it hit him in his already broken nose. He swore loudly and backed up a few paces. Cradling his steadily bleeding nose, she whispered viciously in his ear so only he could hear. "I'm not yours to protect. I will never be. Stop trying, or it'll be me you're fighting next time."

Draco's first thought walking out of the Hall was that his jaw hurt. And that he might have a black eye. And that he was limping. Only after taking a mental count of all his possible injuries did his mind drift back to Hermione's face after she took off the mask. He had known. Somehow, he had known. Maybe it was the way she smiled, or the way she smelled. She smelled like perfume tonight, but once it began to wear off, her real scent filled the air. She smelled like fresh air- like the seaside without the harsh salt smell. Or the fish.

He smiled to himself. _She smells good, _he thought. _Different then _her_ though, there's no comparison. Nanette smelled like flowers and earth. Like the ones in her garden. Roses. Always roses. _

"Frankly, Mister Malfoy, I am not surprised." The sound of Professor McGonagall's harsh voice startled him. "You and Mister Potter have always had a history. But to attack him in the middle of a school dance, one that was served as a treat to all you students, is just unacceptable!"

"I didn't attack him, Professor! He hit me first!" McGonagall looked at him knowingly.

"You have cried werewolf many times, my boy. After all these years, you cannot possibly expect me to believe that Potter has hit you first every single time in the past seven years?"

"Harry hit him first, Professor!"

Hermione burst through the door, her hair falling from its intricate updo. "I saw it; it was right in front of me." Harry stumbled into the room after her and approached the desk.

"Is this true, Potter?" McGonagall snapped impatiently.

"Id whah too?" McGonagall raised her wand and fixed Harry's nose with wave.

"Did you or did you not, Mister Potter, attack Mister Malfoy in the middle of the dance floor?" Harry wondered for a brief moment what would happen if he tried to lie his way out of trouble. The look on Hermione's face answered. He sighed.

"Yeah, I did. I'm sorry, Professor."

"Don't apologize to me, Mr. Potter. I'm not the one spitting blood onto my nice clean floor." She shot Draco a warning look as sat up guiltily; he was about to lean over his chair to spit again.

"I don't need his apologies, Professor," Draco said, standing up. He winced slightly- Harry had punched him in the ribs several times.

"Good, you're not getting any," Harry spat.

"You will both receive one night's detention for your actions this evening. _I don't care who hit whom first Mr. Malfoy!_ Please return to your common rooms; you will not be allowed back into the ball this evening."

Hermione, Draco, and Harry all turned to leave. "Hermione, I'm sorry," Harry pleaded. Hermione turned, but said nothing. Her look of disappointment was worse than any punishment McGonagall could give them. Even worse was having to watch her turn her back on him, put Draco's arm around her shoulder, and walk away.

"Do you…er, do you need anything?" Hermione asked timidly as she and Draco stepped into their bedroom. Draco shook his head and let himself collapse on his bed, feeling the injuries begin to heal themselves all over his body. He tugged his shirt over his head, wincing from his sore ribs. Hermione glanced over at him and felt herself blush.

"You're covered in blood, you know," she said, taking out the pins in her hair. Draco wiped at his face; it was sticky and stiff with dried blood. Hermione wet a washcloth and handed it to him. He rubbed it against his skin, shuddering immediately from the rough pain. Hermione laughed.

"Well, how else do you get it off?" Draco snapped.

"I'll do it," Hermione said softly. She held out her hand, laughter in her eyes, and took the cloth. She ran the cool fabric skillfully around the cuts and bruises lining his face. Draco closed his eyes, enjoying the way she cleaned his wounds and absentmindedly stroked his hair. She stayed on the bed, taking in his features, even after the blood had gone. The gash on his cheekbone was easily the worst of his facial wounds. It made her sad, him in pain. She just barely grazed the cut with the tip of her finger, he inhaled sharply.

"This is my fault," she whispered, pulling her hand away. Draco looked up at her.

"As far as I remember, you didn't ask Potter to deck me in the face." His tone was light, but his face was very serious.

"I don't know why he got so jealous. We weren't doing anything…."

"Obviously, he fancies you."

Hermione's eyes widened. She hadn't thought of that. Harry had been placed in the 'friend' category- the 'brother' category- so long ago, the thought hadn't even crossed her mind. Her face's flushed with embarrassment. Draco saw and mistook her surprise for happiness.

"So, that's just grand, now you can go be all brave and Gryffindor-y together," he said angrily, turning away from her on his bed.

"I-I don't…. He's not who…" she could not bring herself to say it out loud. It shamed and scared her to admit it.

"He's not what, Granger?" Draco's back still faced her, his voice dripped with strained annoyance.

"I like _you_," she said. Draco looked at her, unsure if he heard right.

"I'm sorry?"

"You heard me," she said quietly. She glared at whatever fell into her line of sight. So long as she didn't look at him, she could ignore whatever stupid comment he was about to say as though it didn't happen and didn't hurt her. She felt Draco change his position on the bed, but still refused to look at him. He had sat up against the headboard.

'_I like you'. I… What? No. Do I? I can't, I can't, I promised her forever, and I couldn't deliver. I'm writing her off so easily. She deserves so much better then me. I'm failing her. The one person in my life that means anything, and I'm kissing another girl two months later. Fuck you, Draco. _His thoughts raced. He didn't know what to think. He just knew the deep burning in the pit of his stomach made him feel like the scum of the earth. He took Hermione's hand in his, then leaned forward and kissed her neck very softly.

"I can't. I'm sorry. I can't." He lay back down, refusing to look at her.

"You can. You're just afraid. You're just ashamed that it's me, a Muggle-born Gryffindor- everything you've ever hated." She finally tore her eyes from the wall, locking them angrily on Draco's face. "Look at me, Draco." He didn't move. "Look at me." Reluctantly, he shifted to gaze to her eyes. Her face softened. There was no sound for a solid minute.

"What was her name?" A shock wave flowed through Draco's body from his head to his toes; his muscles tensed and his grip tightened on his pillow.

Keeping his voice as level as he could, he looked away. "I don't know who you mean."

"That was her ring, wasn't it? It was too small to be for a man. She was your 'Secret Passion'?"

"Shut up."

"What happened to her? Did she leave you? Did you leave her?"

"Shut up, Granger."

"Is she why you can't- "

"SHUT UP! YOU DON'T KNOW ANYTHING!" he screamed. Hermione recoiled.

"I- I'm sorry… I just wanted to know…"

"She died, alright?!" He had gotten up now; Hermione was overwhelmed by the tall man leaning over her, yelling viciously in her face. "She _died_. Is that what you want to hear? Does that make you happy? She's dead. She's never coming back. She's dead."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't give me that bullshit. You wanted to know, and now you do. You didn't know her- you're not allowed to be sorry."


	13. 13 Detention

Hello wonderful-

So this is a pretty short chapter. Just thought I'd use the detention as an opportunity to get into everyone's head. More action/plot forward-ness will be coming up soon. Yay for Christmas ;) I'm working on Chapter 14 in the middle of my classes with finals coming up next week. So appreciate me because if I fail my finals it's ALL YOUR FAULT :p

You are all so wonderful and I love you all. -Katherine

* * *

**Detention**

Harry soon completely forgotten about his upcoming detention; he had been obsessed lately with the thought of what Malfoy and Hermione could be doing together at that moment. But Harry wasn't the only one who wondered. As Draco's, Hermione's, and Harry's masks had all been removed the night of the Ball, the whole school was aflutter with the thought of a forbidden love triangle between best friends and enemies.

When confronted with the possibility of his 'sleeping with the enemy', Draco replied with a cold laugh and a sarcastic retort. Hermione blushed when Ron asked her what the hell he had missed, and Harry just fumed emotionally in the corner.

The amount of interaction between Draco and Hermione fell drastically once more, and they fell back into the routine of not speaking. This time, however, Hermione felt awkward and embarrassed every time she was around Draco, stealing many more glances then she needed. Draco seemed to not even notice she existed.

A few weeks passed before the tiny slips of parchment explaining their detention arrived. Draco and Harry were assigned lines together in McGonagall's office that Thursday evening. They were to write "I must not act violently towards my fellow student" until McGonagall felt satisfied.

On Draco's note, McGonagall had written that Hermione, "will also be notified of the time and location of your detention, and should bring any materials necessary to keep herself occupied as long as is required."

Draco stuffed the parchment in his pocked at glanced at Hermione from across the room. She glanced up at the same time, and Draco's stomach felt butterflies, followed suddenly by guilt and hatred. He looked away angrily and Hermione looked back down at her book. She could not honestly say that Draco's emotional absence had not affected her. She had been alienated from all she knew, and the only person who understood acted as though she didn't exist.

So that Thursday, Draco walked purposefully down to McGonagall's office, Hermione following like a puppy, her arms filled with books. When Harry saw Hermione, his heart leapt. She glanced over Harry quickly and turned to enter the classroom. "Hermione-" Harry began, but her stern look told him she had not yet forgiven him. She sat down on a small chair in the corner next to Professor McGonagall's desk and immediately began to read.

"Sit down," said McGonagall. Draco and Harry lowered themselves into two desks facing the front of the room. Obviously, Hermione was there so Draco could carry out his detention without fear of death. The thought angered Harry. He didn't enjoy the idea of Hermione put in the corner like a trophy, just to be glanced at from time to time. He imagined her as a beautiful caged bird that Malfoy kept in his room. Harry hoped she would be freed soon. Or, even better, that _he_ could free her himself.

"You may begin, Mister Potter," McGonagall said stiffly. He turned his head to his paper and began to write feverishly, but wrote his line barely five times before he went back to daydreaming. He didn't know why, but whenever his mind wasn't occupied steadily, it seemed to drift back to thoughts of Malfoy with Hermione. He tried dearly to think of other things, but always his brain thrust forward images of Hermione gazing up into Draco's eyes and their lips touching. And with she and Harry no longer on speaking terms, he had a lot more time on his hands to think these thoughts.

What did they do together up in that room? Was something going on? The suspicions about Draco and Hermione's relationship whispered throughout the student body did not help ease his paranoia. The students at the Ball that witnessed the two boys in a fight (over or about Hermione) were the same students who saw Hermione and Draco in every class together. As preposterous and illogical as it sounded, many students wondered excitedly to each other whether they had had their classes mixed so that they could be together as much as possible.

Whatever the rumors, Harry forced himself to remember the fact that when Hermione and Draco _were_ in public together, they certainly did not seem deeply in impassioned love. Ron spent much of his time escorting Hermione to her classes (which unfortunately did not dispel any Draco rumors) so that she didn't look as though she was following Draco around everywhere she went. She look more and more disheveled as days wore on, Harry had noticed, and he wondered if she had been sleeping well. He was reminded, by her appearance, of the end of each term when exams approached and she had grown frantic with stress.

It angered Harry that something was worrying Hermione. He clenched his quill tightly in his fingers as he wrote, glancing at Malfoy in the seat next to him. Draco wrote calmly and quietly, moving his quill swiftly across the paper. Harry resented the way he took this whole 'curse' issue so easily. If it were Harry, he would be doing all he could to help Hermione out and find out who did it. But there Malfoy sat, unaffected by detention, unaffected by possibly fatal curses. Malfoy's face was serene, almost lifeless, as it stared at the paper. _Oh, to be that detached_, Harry thought jealously.

Little did Harry know, however, that behind Draco's calm demeanor, he was screaming.

_AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!_ was all Draco ever heard. Thoughts of what homework was due today or what he was reading out of a book were dull thuds against the strong wall of sound that filled his head. He couldn't focus on anything he had so much going on at once. When Draco lay silent in his bed at night, he focused hard on the screaming to try and calm it down. If he concentrated hard enough, he could hear phrases within the sound: specifications of his mind's terror. Images came when he heard these phrases.

Nanette's voice rang out through the darkness. "What's the difference?" she'd ask. "What's the real difference between you and me?" "That which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet." _Roses. Always roses._ He dreamt of her. He dreamt of finding her, having her, and then losing her all over again. He turned and yelled in the night. But then, when he woke up the next morning, he could never remember the dream.

Hermione's voice sometimes penetrated the solid stream of sound. Nanette always spoke of memorable moments in the past. Hermione always said the same thing: "_Draco_…" All she ever said was his name; she said it softly, but it was filled with meaning. Each time he heard her speak his name, he saw her as he had seen Nanette. But she always looked so sad. He wanted to help her, to make her not feel so sad anymore, but he could never reach her. Often, when he awoke from his dreams, he thought he saw Hermione sitting on the bed next to him, looking at him. When he went to take a second look, however, she was sleeping across the room.

Rain began to tap against the window as the boys wrote their lines. Winter was fast approaching; it was already toward the end of November. Draco stole a quick glance at Hermione. Her eyes gazed down at her book, but she wasn't reading. She had small bags under her eyes.

Hermione had not been sleeping each night as Draco expected. His nightmares made him to yell out at the night, forcing her awake. And when she _did_ sleep, she, too, was plagued by nightmares. The only comfort she felt was when she was sitting on Draco's bed next to him, quieting him and consoling him. She felt a slight pang on guilt at the thought. She felt, sometimes, as though she was looking in on something private when he dreamt. "Netta…" he would whimper. Hermione wondered, glancing up at Draco, who she was. What happened to her? What was she like? Was she Draco's first love?

Harry cleared his throat. Hermione snapped back from her wandering thoughts to realize that she had been staring intently at Draco. Flushing, she returned to gaze to her book.

"Alright," Professor McGonagall said, breaking the silence. An hour and a half had passed. "You may go." The three shuffled papers and gathered up their things. Hermione was the first out the door, head held high.

"Hermione," Harry called, practically sprinting out the door after her. She turned, but looked put-out.

"What do you want?"

Harry sighed. "I'm sorry. You were right, you aren't mine to protect. And I should have realized that if you needed protecting, you could do it yourself. I'm sorry." Hermione stared at him, thinking about whether or not she should forgive him. Harry, panicking, knew he had to do something drastic. "And I'm sorry, Malfoy, for hitting you."

Draco looked up at the sound of his name. He hadn't been paying much attention to the conversation. "Oh, is that what you did," he said, faking surprise. "I wondered what that poking feeling was."

"Oh, be quiet, you were wincing all the way up the castle that night," Hermione snapped. Harry smirked, Draco scowled.

"I forgive you," she said stiffly. Harry's stomach relaxed for the first time in what seemed like weeks. Hermione turned on her heel and headed off towards her room; Draco sighed and followed.

* * *

PS- Remember to give me ideas on what you'd like to see happen! I don't have this story completed in my head, so any ideas may help prevent writer's block and allow for more updates!


	14. 14 I Know

Herroooooo. So I have my first day of summer classes tomorrow morning at 8am (yikes!) but I've had this chapter written for the last few days and felt like I needed to get it posted before the week began. It just needed one last run through, but now it's ready to post! I hope you all like it... I'm really excited for the upcoming chapters :) I can't wait to write them. I love each and every one of you! I hope you all like it :)

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Chapter 14- I Know

Christmas was fast approaching. Snow fell gracefully outside the castle windows. Hermione wanted to feel excited about the upcoming holiday, but she missed her family and was saddened by the thought of another Christmas without them. She and Draco hadn't discussed their plans for the break; she had just assumed that they were staying at the castle as usual.

"No way are we going to _my_ house," Draco said when she mentioned it to him. They were dressing for class, their backs to each other.

"Are you sure?" she asked. "Family is important, Draco."

"Yeah, well… mine's not," he said coldly. Hermione didn't push the subject. Her throat went dry at the thought of spending time with the Malfoys. She conjured a glass of juice and sipped on it while Draco finished behind her.

"Mine is," she said absentmindedly. "I miss my mum and dad."

"We can go there for Christmas if you want. I really don't care." Hermione's eyes lit up.

"Really?" she asked excitedly, spinning around. Her juice cup crashed into Draco and spilled everywhere. He was much closer to her than she had expected. He cursed and started to unbutton his now soaked shirt.

"Oh- I'm sorry. I can just- "

"Don't bother. Those spells always get it out of the shirt, but it still feels all sticky- I'll just grab another one." Hermione had stopped listening. She held the cup limply in her hand, spilt juice drying on her fingers. She was staring at Draco's naked torso, not being able to help herself. She felt herself go red and looked away, hoping he didn't notice. He slipped past her into the bathroom and started running water on his shirt.

"What are you doing?" she asked, trying to keep her mind off the images in her head.

"I told you; vanishing it doesn't do any good." He scrubbed at it roughly.

Hermione stepped forward. "You're going to tear it like that." She took the shirt from him. "Scoot over?" He moved. She let the water run over the fabric, kneading it until the stain disappeared. Draco stood almost too close next to her. Her arm grazed against him once, and she had to stifle a small gasp. Clearing her throat, she rung out the now clean shirt and handed it to Draco. "Hang it over the shower door to dry."

His hand closed over the shirt, his skin barely brushing hers. He looked at her with intense eyes; it was almost intimidating. They stood there for a moment, her in her uniform, and he half naked but guarded. He touched her hip gently, but immediately withdrew. Defeated looking, he took the shirt from her and walked away.

"Wait," Hermione whispered. Draco looked hesitantly down into her eyes. She pulled him in by his hand. "Don't run away from me," she said, pushing herself up onto her tiptoes.

When their lips touched, it was like something glowed in each of their stomachs. The warmth extended as it did before, but this time it was a calm and tender heat. Draco felt guilty in the back of his mind, but his need to be connected to Hermione overpowered him and he kissed back. His damp shirt fell idly from his fingertips; her hands rested on the sides of his torso.

Draco would not yet give in completely. He was still tense and couldn't help but think of everything different between Hermione and Nanette. He didn't want to think of them like that. It wouldn't be fair to compare the two. But despite himself, Hermione was getting to him. He felt a certain joy and fear when kissing Hermione that he had thought he would never feel again. He loved the way her lips felt against his and the way her eyes brightened when she learned something new. He liked her determination and admired how headstrong she was. He was also impressed with the vulnerability she rarely showed, except for the few times she revealed herself to him- an almost perfect stranger.

He hated himself for liking her as much as he did, and would never allow for saying it out loud.

By now, Draco had placed both hands on Hermione's neck and was kissing her deeply. Her heart was pounding and she was dangerously short of breath. One arm wrapped thoughtlessly around his waist; the other hand clung to his back.

Very suddenly, Hermione broke free and gasped for air. "What?" asked Draco, concerned.

In between breaths, Hermione laughed, "I forgot to breathe."

"Oh." Draco smiled a little. Hermione loved that smile. She could safely say that it was Draco's most attractive feature. One always hears about a smile that lights up the room, but Draco's literally made him look like the sun shone just for him. When he smiled- genuinely smiled, not a cold smirk or a fake malicious laugh- he appeared as though whatever happened had just made his week.

The warmth in their skin and stomachs dissolved away slowly, leaving them weak. Hermione took advantage of her moment of bravery, and told him, "I like you."

Draco breathed out heavily into her hair. "I know."

"So?" Hermione looked at him pleadingly. Frustrated, she started to pull away, but Draco kept his hold on her.

He kissed her forehead then rested his head on her shoulder. "I know," he said again. "I know."

"What are you afraid of?" Hermione absentmindedly began to stroke his hair.

"I'm not ready. It's too soon. I need time. Slow. Please, just… slow." He sounded winded from the thought. Hermione, sensing that this was all he could give her, nodded.

"We should get to breakfast," Hermione said quietly. Draco nodded seriously and followed her out.

Walking in silence towards the Great Hall, Hermione could hardly breathe for the butterflies in her stomach. Despite his not being able to say so directly, she knew that Draco liked her back. It felt silly to be so giddy; she felt like a little girl with a new crush. She had known that Draco had changed since the first night they spent together, and she was getting closer and closer to knowing why. While dealing with a boy who had emotional baggage up to his ears was going to be difficult, she felt that it didn't really matter so long as she was patient.

She suppressed yet another blissful smile and glanced once more back at the boy who made her heart swell. He smiled back at her, five paces behind her stride.

During breakfast, Hermione wrote an excited letter to her parents saying that she and Draco were to be coming to stay for the two week Christmas break. She felt a small pang of guilt over how her parents would disapprove of her sharing a room with a boy. But as she was 18 now, she was an adult in both of her worlds, and free to take care of herself.

She glanced cheerily up at Draco every minute or so, proud to see a small smile playing on his lips. He, too, was writing a letter to his parents. He was telling them (sarcastically, in his mind) that he was SO sorry, but he had decided to stay at school for the holiday, and that he would miss the manor very, very much. Ha.

Suddenly the owl in front of him caught Draco's eye. It hooted softly at him and stuck its leg out; a letter was attached. Draco took it, and the owl took off. It circled around overhead, getting lost in the pack of other mail owls coming and going that morning. Then, as Draco expected, the owl landed next to Hermione across the room, sticking out the opposite leg. She opened the letter, then looked up at Draco, worry creeping across her face. He nodded, then stood up and left the Hall.

"Thank you for sacrificing yet another hearty meal on my behalf. I only hoped that we would meet under better circumstance."

The way Dumbledore worded this made Hermione uneasy. She noticed that a file- precisely like the one he had given them weeks earlier- lay on his desk now. "I believe that I have found Mr. Vega and Ms. Castillo." Draco and Hermione looked at one another.

"The people like us? Where are they?" Draco asked, heart rate rising.

"The only records there are of these two seem to be of brief stays at Muggle hospitals all around Europe. All for seizures, headaches, and other symptoms we have discovered to be apart of the spell used against them… and you. At one point about a year ago, the trail goes cold and all records stop. We can only guess what happened," Dumbledore explained calmly.

"You mean they could have been cured," Draco said hopefully.

"Or they're dead." Dumbledore looked silently at Hermione, who had spoken, but made no attempt to reply. After a long moment, however, Dumbledore spoke again.

"I knew that you two would be old enough and mature enough to receive the truth- no matter how grave or extraordinary." Draco nodded; Hermione was too absorbed in her thoughts to move. Even several minutes later, she didn't realize they were leaving until Draco was pulling her out of the room.

She was very glad that Draco had taken that seat next to her that day in potions several weeks ago, even if it was just to piss Harry off. Him being there comforted her; his scent stabilized her and kept her grounded.

What if they were dead? What if they couldn't fight it off? Dumbledore had said that the hospital records had listed both Vega AND Castillo. If they had stayed together, what went wrong? Were she and Draco doomed no matter how long they stayed together?

She shivered. Taking several deep breaths, Hermione tried to focus on that day's potions lesson, but she was easily distracted.

Draco saw how upset their meeting had made her. His mind couldn't even hold all the theories why Vega and Castillo could have disappeared a year ago. He knew Hermione; she would see that the most logical story was one that ended with a cure. But he also knew that she would find a way to doubt herself, and worry even more. There certainly WERE holes in the story. Reaching under the desk, Draco intertwined his fingers with hers. They locked eyes for a brief moment, then, finally calm, they began to listen to class.


	15. 15 Feelin Lucky?

Herrooooo everybody. Did y'all know that I got over 850 hits from over 300 different people the day I uploaded the last chapter? I'm popular! :p I feel so accomplished. I love each and every one of you! I feel bad because these chapters keep getting shorter and shorter. Have you guys noticed? Does it make a difference to you? Also I feel like there's no humor any more :[ It's almost as serious as Edward Cullen's browline. Which is VERY. SERIOUS. By the way. LUB JOO -Katherine

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Chapter 15-

"We should let Dumbledore know that we're going to my parents' house," Hermione said as she and Draco packed. The train was leaving tomorrow morning, and Hermione couldn't help the excited tone in her voice and an occasional smile. Christmas was her absolute favorite holiday- she was one of those "everything's alright, it's Christmas" types- and she was glad to have a time filled with solid tradition in the midst of all the mess her life had become.

"I told him last week at the meeting we had with him. Don't you remember?" Draco replied, stuffing another collared shirt into his trunk.

"Oh…. No."

"You were pretty out of it," Draco said, shrugging.

"Do you really think they're alive?" Hermione asked suddenly, desperate to hear him say it one more time.

"Hermione, we talked about this. More than once. Yes, I do." If it didn't reconvince him every time he said it, he'd be really annoyed with her by now.

"Okay," she said quietly, packing up the few items left on her nightstand. One of these items was a still photo of three people, smiling in front of a quaint cottage with a lush garden growing all around it.

"Is that your family?" Draco asked, seeing Hermione stare at it.

"Yes," she said, and smiled. "This is my mom, Naomi, and my dad, Will. They'll be at the station tomorrow, you can meet them then." She pointed to the house in the background, "That's my home. Mum loves her garden; it's like our own little fort outside, there're so many plants and flowers. When I was little, I pretended that I lived in my own magic world amongst the leaves." She was beaming. Draco felt the slightest pang of sadness; he had never felt anything close to that about his own family.

Hermione saw him turn very serious. "What about your family?" she asked, gently leaning into him. Hermione had been almost afraid to go near him since their encounter that day for fear of not going 'slow' enough. He let his head fall gently against her hair, however, and she continued. "You used to go on and on about them. What are they like?"

Draco sighed. "You've met my father. He thinks that I'm a nuisance and a failure and my mother thinks I'm a doll, doting on my like a child. Neither of them knows a thing about me. That's how it's always been." He started back towards his trunk. "If that's what you call 'family' then I'd rather not have one." Hermione wanted to take all his family issues and throw them out the window. "I'd rather not talk about it," he said. She nodded and let it go, going back to packing her bags.

The next day, however, excited as she was, Hermione clung to Ron as though she would never see him again. "I forgot how much fun it is at the Christmas feast," she said into his shoulder. "You and Harry have fun."

"Stay with us, 'Mione. It won't be as much fun without you," Ron pleaded. Harry stood hopefully in the background, wishing her sudden newfound love for him would inspire her to join them there and leave Malfoy in the dust.

"I miss my family, Ron. It's been so hectic; my house will be the closest to normal that we can get. And I miss normal," she said with a laugh. She glanced back to Draco with a fond look in her eyes; Harry's heart fell. He saw the way they moved around each other, the way they looked at one another the slightest moment longer than before. He also saw that Draco looked displeased with himself whenever Hermione looked away.

"Write to me, will you Harry?" Hermione asked and he snapped back to reality. He nodded, getting butterflies at the way the cold winter air flushed her cheeks. She smiled, and he felt like nothing existed but her, even as she boarded the train and it rode out of sight.

Hermione and Draco placed themselves in one of the many empty compartments. Facing one another, the awkward tension rose quickly. At this point, Hermione wished she had her iPod with her. She stared at Draco discreetly; he was staring at the scenery rolling past the window and didn't notice. The phrase _Jesus that boy is beautiful _drifted through her mind. Another word also bounced around in there; the only one that could stop her from attacking him inside the car: _SLOW_. It repeated over and over, keeping her loving mood in check.

Taking a deep breath, a sudden idea lit like a light bulb in her head (hence, the image of the light bulb over one's head).

"Want to play a game?" Hermione asked, conjuring a deck of cards onto her lap.

"What are those?" Draco asked as she started to shuffle. He stared at her hands as though discovering new magic.

"They're just playing cards," she said nonchalantly. As she explained the simple design of a 52-card deck, Draco began to smirk wickedly. "What's that look for?" Hermione asked cautiously. "I know that look- that look is evil."

"I have to beat you at _something_, Granger, and you're all about logic. Games of luck and chance are more my forte." As he said this, his eyes lit with a passionate fire that made heat rise in Hermione's chest.

They started with Go Fish while Draco was still learning, but quickly moved on to Rummy. Darkness fell around them as Hermione told him about her family and their holiday traditions. He listened, occasionally asking for explanations of Muggle terms. Hermione described every card game that she could remember, and she and Draco played until there was only one game left: poker.

"So what are we betting, Malfoy?" she asked. "Did you want to lose all your money or would you prefer I take everything you own instead?"

Draco laughed heartily. "You can try to take whatever you like, Granger, but at the end of the day, I'll get what I want."

"And what is it that you want from me, Malfoy?" she said, locking contact with his silvery gray eyes. She crossed her legs to tease him, and was delighted when she saw his gaze drop, then rise up to pause on her lips. She smirked and he cleared his throat, adjusting himself in his seat.

"I'm sure I'll think of something." Something other than what was already in his head. What was in his head was highly inappropriate.

"Well, think of something fast, because I want to start kicking your ass already."

Draco sat and thought quietly for a moment as Hermione conjured purple and gold poker chips onto the seat next to him. Splitting the chips between them, Draco stared at his first hand. It wasn't until the train was a half hour outside of King's Cross station, however, that any progress was made. For every round that Hermione won, Draco won one himself. But Draco began to lose more and more hands, and his chip pile diminished.

Hermione's smirk, however, grew and grew. "I think I know what I want from you, Malfoy." Draco glanced up at her, but returned his attention to his unhappy hand. "I want a day," she continued. "A whole day, from the moment we wake up to the moment we go to sleep, where we can do whatever I want and you can't complain."

"Sounds sexy."

"That's not the kind of day I was thinking of."

"So you want a normal day but without my… comments? And miss all my wit and charm? That doesn't seem like a very fun day at all."

"It will be for me. No snide comments, no snarky retorts… it'll be like you aren't even there."

"Ouch, Granger."

The train began to slow, and Draco groaned in frustration. "Last hand, Draco," Hermione said, faking sympathy. "Hope you have something good."

Draco bit his lip and slammed his cards face down, fed up. "Fine. Fuck it," he said and he pushed all of his chips towards the pile. "Let's see them, Granger."

Hermione smirked, pushed her chips in, and put down her hand. "Two pair- queens and tens. Beat that, Malfoy."

Draco stared at her cards, then broke down into laughter. "I think a flush ought to do it, yeah?" He pulled all the chips toward him and continued laughing maniacally.

"What? How did you…"

"Just lucky I guess. HA! I've been waiting to say that for _hours_."

Hermione huffed in her corner in shock and disbelief. Draco could not seem to stop his giggles, especially with the lost expression now playing across Hermione's face. "Aww, don't worry Hermione," he chortled. "You won most of them, shouldn't that count for something?"

Hermione nodded slowly. "I guess so…." But she was stopped short by the Hogwarts Express coming to a full halt with a loud squeal. With a violent jerk, Draco and his chips were hurled into Hermione's side of the compartment. He grunted at the contact of the wall against his shoulder, and he collapsed into Hermione's lap.

"Are you okay?" she asked, vanishing the chips from the floor. He groaned and turned over, clutching his shoulder.

"This train does much more harm than good, I think," he said, chuckling. He looked up at Hermione, whose hand found its way to Draco's hair once more. She smiled at him, and he felt a jolt of happiness inside him. He tried as hard as he could, but he couldn't help smiling back. As the rest of the students noisily filed off the train, Draco pulled Hermione's lips down to his, giving this train ride a much happier ending then the last.


	16. 16 Meet the Grangers

Hello my lovely fans. Can I call you fans? Of course I can. You love me. ANYWAY here is chapter 16, sorry for the long wait, but I SWEAR to you that the next chapter will be amazing. So long as all my research goes well. I need a British person who can answer all of my silly British culture questions in case Google fails me. Any volunteers? Note that my questions may give away future plot points that are planned or hoped for.

Thank you all for reading and reviewing :) KAYLA you can shut up now :) Although I know you (like everyone else) will start going on about updating the moment you finish reading this chapter. God love you all. If he don't, I will :)

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Chapter 16- Meet the Grangers

Draco and Hermione each felt nervous as they stepped through the barrier of Platform 9 ¾. They both knew that Draco had been a royal ass in the past, and they both knew that Hermione had explained to her parents, in lush detail, her dislike of him. Hermione, who knew her parents very well, could imagine what her parents were thinking.

Two quiet-looking people stood out in the middle of the station, craning their necks around holiday visitors. Hermione spotted them, smiled, and began walking very fast towards them. Her mother spotted her first. Mrs. Granger nudged Mr. Granger just as Hermione ran up to hug both of them. Draco, feeling very out of place, walked up behind Hermione a moment later.

Mr. Granger saw him first. He looked the boy up and down as though Draco was asking for a fight just by standing there. Drawing himself up to full height, Mr. Granger snarled, "So this is him, is it?"

"William…" Mrs. Granger's voice was full of warning.

"Mum, Dad, this is Draco Malfoy," Hermione said, willing them with her mind to like him.

"Good to meet you," Draco said humbly, holding his hand out to Mrs. Granger first, whom he was closer to. When he attempted to shake the hand of Hermione's father, the man stared at Draco suspiciously. The look of hope on Hermione's face, however, swayed him to complete the introduction.

After they had shoved their trunks into the Granger's car and piled themselves into the backseat, Hermione and Draco sat quietly and awkwardly. "So…" Draco whispered under the rhythms of the radio. "How am I doing?"

Hermione smiled and whispered back, "Very well. I'm quite proud of you."

"So they like me?"

Hermione couldn't help letting out a loud "HA!" that she quickly regretted as her parents gave her strange looks. "My father despises you, and my mother doesn't trust you. Anyone that hurts their little girl is no good. But, at the same time, if you make me happy, they'll be nice."

"Do I make you happy?" Draco asked with a smirk.

Hermione thought for a moment. "I wish you dead_ so_ much less often now."

"I'll take it."

The Granger house was as quaint and old-fashioned on the inside as it was on the outside. They entered through a door on the side of the house that opened into the kitchen. The floors were rustic stone and the walls were beautiful wood panels. Pictures hung neatly every so often. Draco had to conceal a smirk as he passed one of a 12-year-old Hermione playing in a kiddie pool, hair wet and wild.

Hermione tried to analyze all reactions at once. Her father had played protector, as she had expected. Her mother had played mediator, as she had expected. Draco remained quiet and nervous and hoped for no real conflict… as she had expected. As Draco looked in wonder around the sitting room, Hermione took in the familiarities of her summertime home.

She breathed in deeply the scent of the Muggle heater and the carpet she'd been close to since childhood. The family's Christmas decorations had already been taken out, and boxes were stacked in the corner.

"Excuse the mess," Mrs. Granger said straightening a pile of books on the table. "We're still in the process of decorating."

"Have you gotten the tree yet, Mum?" Hermione asked, looking around.

"Of course not, sweetheart. We go get it together. Always." Mr. Granger rolled his eyes exaggeratedly.

"You two and your holiday traditions," he said, amused.

"Well it's a good thing she inherited my love for the holidays or I don't know what I'd do. You're such a Scrooge sometimes, Will," she joked.

Hermione gave Draco a happy look, and then her mother took her aside. "You may have to… what's the word… conjure up a second bed in your room. Your father and I would feel more… comfortable… if you slept in your own bed… alone."

Hermione could sense how much her mother disliked the idea of her and Draco in one room. "Of course, Mum," she said, consoling her with a warm smile and a hand on her shoulder. "I'll do that right now."

She led the way to her room, Draco following behind her. For the size of the cottage they lived in, Hermione's room certainly seemed spacious. He had no doubt that she had used an engorgement charm on the inside of the room. Other than that, however, it appeared to be just like any teenage Muggle girl's room. The pictures stood still in their frames and no Quidditch posters hung on the wall. If not for the twin bed Hermione had just made appear out of thin air, Draco would have a hard time believing that a witch lived here at all.

"I thought it'd be cleaner," he teased, falling lazily onto the second bed. "Knowing you…."

"Shut up, Malfoy," Hermione laughed. She immediately began to unpack, stuffing things away in familiar places. Draco came up next to her, leaning against the wall.

"Where can I put my things?" he asked with his signature smirk. Hermione took a deep breath (something she did often when Draco looked at her like that) and started to clear space out of her drawers. "I don't think your father likes me very much yet," Draco said quietly and directly into Hermione's ear. His breath sent shivers throughout her body. She closed her eyes automatically.

"Well," she began, "I _have_ been complaining about you for over half of a decade now. It may take longer than you'd think" It was all she could do to keep her voice steady. He pulled her hair back from her shoulders and kissed her neck softly.

"Have I made up for any of it yet?" His voice was light and playful.

Hermione paused to think of a clever answer, but Draco's lips were very distracting. "Like I said," she forced out, "I don't want you _as_ dead."

"Hermione! Draco! Dinner!" Hermione had never loathed the call of food more. Draco stepped away from her, leaving her cold in his absence. She glared at the back of his head the whole way down the stairs.

She didn't have time to stew, however, because her mother attacked her with plans the moment she sat down at the dinner table. "We'll get the tree tomorrow; they should still have a few left. Oh, and we need to finish with the rest of the house, it's been too plain for Christmas, and your grandmother's fudge has to be made, all the cookies, the puddings, those cinnamon apple tart things you like…. The Walkers called, by the way, their party is the night after next, we'll have to get you a new dress tomorrow as well. Are there any holiday traditions you have, Draco?"

She said this all so fast that Draco didn't even realize he was being asked a question. He wondered for a panicky moment why the three Grangers were staring at him.

"Draco?" Hermione spoke this time. "Is there anything special you want to do for Christmas?" Draco's lungs deflated suddenly; he hadn't realized he was holding his breath.

"Oh, no. We don't do much for Christmas as the Man- at my house."

"Don't worry," Hermione whispered to him when the conversation had been drawn elsewhere. "You'll have enough Christmas this year to last you a lifetime." She said it almost wickedly, and he felt the first real prickle of fear since fainting on that train in September.


	17. 17 Presents and Intentions

**Hello my lovelies! I'm back! And I know I've said that before, then left you out in the cold for months on end, and I apologize profusely for that. This chapter is short and kind of useless. BUT I promise that next chapter will be filled with hilarities and smut. Thank you all SO much who still read this fic and love it. Your words LITERALLY bring me to tears. I am so happy and love all of you so very very much. **

**Also, reading my old author's notes are hilarious. There is no way in hell that I am going to introduce a band that is like Tokio Hotel but isn't. That phase has passed. (I'm now obsessed with Doctor Who, but I think that my love for that is here to stay. Also, I doubt that it will find its way into this fic.)**

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Presents and Intentions**  
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Dinner was delicious and Draco was groggy when he got up from the table. The thought of the bed upstairs with its comfy pillows and warm blankets was enough to make him faint with elation. The day had been nerve racking, and he was finally ready to relax. Slipping in to his own personal heaven, he fell asleep immediately, not at all curious or worried about the day that lay ahead of him.

He had never really been a morning person, and he knew this well. This is why it came as no surprise to him how irking Hermione's rude wake up call (a pillow or two aimed at his head) or her bouncing up and down was. Even after breakfast, when he felt much more aware, her excitement bugged him slightly. It wasn't until all four people had piled into the car and started off for London that Draco said anything.

"Do you mind?" he whispered. His voice was barely audible over the Christmas tunes blaring out of the car stereo.

Hermione immediately froze. Her eyes sparkled, though, making Draco smile automatically. "With the bouncing and the happy?" he explained.

She leaned into him, eyes wide, and asked, "Do you know what we're doing today?" Her unblinking stare made Draco uneasy.

"…Shopping?" he guessed.

"_Christmas_ shopping," she corrected, "because it's almost Christmas." She giggled creepily and began bouncing again.

"Yeah, but… is the bouncing necessary?" She stopped again and gave Draco a very serious look.

"Don't you rain on my Christmas parade. Don't you dare." Before he could defend himself, Hermione began to speak very rapidly to her mother. He caught his name among their conversation and immediately his worry increased. He sat very quietly the rest of the drive.

When they got to their destination, Hermione and her mother ran ahead, leaving Draco with her father. "Don't worry about it," Mr. Granger chuckled, seeing Draco's heavy frown. "It happens every year. But if you survive the season, you're a stronger man because of it." He gave Draco a friendly pat on the back and urged him forward.

Draco had never been to a Muggle shopping center before. The Malfoy manor sat on a hill just over a mile away from the nearest Muggle town. He had spent brief moments in that town this past summer, but had never seen anything on this scale. People were carrying countless packages, pushing past each other in the holiday rush. Though it was freezing, families trudged down the boulevard, cheeks rosy, breath hanging in the air. Draco looked around for only a moment but almost lost the Granger family in the crowd. He hadn't even been aware that Muggles even celebrated Christmas- he had never really thought of it.

Hermione grabbed his hand quickly to pull him into a shop. To his relief, it was quiet and warm inside. He was still reeling over the hustle and bustle and didn't even notice where he was. Hermione rushed him around. "Mum and dad are off getting presents, so we have to go this way. See anything you like?"

"Oh…" he started, his internal dialogue fading. "I wasn't expecting any gifts."

"Don't be silly, everyone gets presents on Christmas. It's tradition." He felt uncomfortable accepting gifts from a family he barely knew, but her tone told him not to argue.

"Well, I don't know Muggle books well so just guess and I'm sure I'll like it." He put his arm around her shoulders and she leaned in to him. His skin was always warm somehow, and his smells intoxicated her every time. "What should I get your parents?" he whispered.

"Good question… more importantly, what should _I_ get them?" Hermione and Draco strolled aimlessly up and down the aisles, stopping every now and then to look over a potential present. Hermione, so excited at the thought of Christmas, grabbed far too many presents and had to put quite a few back.

"This is the first shop," Draco laughed. "How many presents do you plan on getting everyone?"

"Too many is usually the case," Hermione admitted. "I always get carried away… because it's Christmas!" She drew out 'Christmas' as though she was singing a cheesy carol.

"Well how long does this last, this… shopping?" The last word dripped with disdain.

"My god, Draco, does your family not celebrate Christmas? I would think you, of all people, would glorify a holiday where you get gifts." Draco stuck his tongue out at her.

He mocked himself with a heavily posh accent, "Don't you see, old chap? I have matured." Hermione laughed and laughed.

"Hey, you two," Mrs. Granger called from down the aisle. Hermione gasped and hid, books in hand, behind Draco's tall frame. "Are you done?"

"Mother! What in the name of Christmas cookies are you doing? I have presents with me! Go away!" Hermione's mom chuckled and moved an aisle away.

"Meet us out front when you're finished, Hermione, we need to get you a dress for tomorrow night."

The thought of getting a new dress hastened Hermione's expedition through the non-fiction, and they were done in less than five minutes. Further down the mall, clothing shops waited in abundance. Draco had never gone shopping with a girl before, but found it just as boring as stereotyped. Mr. Granger excused himself to the bench outside, and Draco followed, eager to be out of the sea of bras and tank tops. He soon regretted this.

"What are your intentions, Draco?"

Mr. Granger was not a burly man- in fact, quite the opposite. Hermione's parents were both of average height and a bit on the slim side. A father seems much taller when speaking on the topic of his daughter's welfare.

"My intentions, sir?" Draco asked, feigning ignorance. He knew exactly what Mr. Granger was talking about, but wanted to postpone his answer as long as he could.

"I know that you two were forced together by this... magic spell… but I also know that dating was optional. Don't try to deny it, I can tell. But that is my only little girl in there. She's dealt with bullies before, and heartache… but as her father, it is my job to protect her. _So_," Mr. Granger, in all his paternal glory, turned to stare directly into Draco's eyes. "What are your intentions?" Draco stared, too nervous to speak. He had been selfish in his thoughts. All this time with his internal struggle between Hermione and Nanette... he had never imagined Hermione _with_ anyone, let alone heartbroken. The thought made him angry.

Draco, a man, refused to show Mr. Granger weakness and stared calmly and determinedly back. "I'm going to be honest with you, Mr. Granger." Mr. Granger's heart, fearing pregnancy, fell at these words. "I have no idea where my relationship with Hermione will go." Mr. Granger's heart returned to normal altitude at this point. "I don't know if it's because of the charm or because of her and I actually liking one another, but... I _can't_ hurt her. I can't allow myself. It isn't that I don't want to, but I am just not capable. How could you with those eyes?"

Quiet understanding drifted between Draco and then man who had feared the worst. After a long moment of silence letting Draco and Hermione's father to their thoughts, the ladies came out of the shop with a big white bag. Hermione smiled at Draco, and Mrs. Granger wrapped her arm around Mr. Granger's. All the while Draco tried to forget that it was Nanette's eyes he had seen in his mind.

**Dun Dun DUUUNNN! **

**I've started a new fic. It's the most awful thing I've ever done. It's a cross over of, like, 6 different stories, and the main character is an O/C: two major taboos in the Fan Fiction world. It is likely that only my close friends will read it after I've begged them, but I was wondering if any of you would read it? The general plot is basically random girl is obsessed with TV/movies/books and one day they all start to appear in her real life. Appearances made by main characters of Doctor Who (primary fic category), Harry Potter, Vampire Diaries, and soo many more once I start writing it more. It's written in the first person, so I think it will be a lot easier to relate to the O/C than normal. I dunno. **

**But R&R and I love each of you so very much!**

**-Katherine  
**


	18. 18 House Party

**Hellooooooooo! I am back! And I mean it. I've got another chapter and a half finished, so I will not disappoint (as much as last time). Thank you all so much from the bottom of my heart for your support and your views. It makes my day/week/month/life to see that Hit/Visitor count. Hopefully this will be a nice comical break of a chapter, and I hope you enjoy! I'll have the next chapter up when I finish the chapter after that. And Chapter 20 is a big one. But I'm at college now (a REAL university) so I AM very busy. Luckily my lectures are super boring so I just write in them :) R&R if you like, and thank you so much for your years of support (I started this fic sophomore year of high school and I am now a junior in college... dear god, this is coming along slowly). -Katherine**

They spent the whole next day baking. Draco, only slightly bored with cooking, entertained himself with tasting as much as possible. Also with less-than-appropriate fantasies involving Hermione and whipped cream. Draco perked up when he discovered his talent for decorating cookies. While he started simple, he quickly became cocky and piled frosting on an inch thick. When Hermione deemed this cookie too sweet for Santa, Draco downed it immediately with a smirk.

"How can you eat that?" she asked, disgusted. "It's too sugary."

Draco smirked through a mouth full of food, "No such thing as too much sugar." Hermione pretended to gag like she was going to be sick.

"So... party tonight, are you excited?" Hermione asked.

"Of course- Muggles I don't know; having to keep you in my sight at all times, but I can't explain to anyone why; strange name that everyone will laugh at... what wouldn't I be excited about?" Draco said sarcastically.

"It won't be that bad," Hermione reassured him. He didn't feel any better.

Still, seven o'clock came anyway, and before they knew it they were getting ready to go. Draco, having left his wand downstairs, told Hermione to meet him in the living room, making for a very convenient and dramatic walk-down-the-stairs reveal of her new dress. It was a deep red with long sleeves that started off the shoulders. Her hair was pinned on one side with a red bow pin, and she wore high heeled black ankle boots. Draco couldn't hide his reaction. He waited until Hermione's parents were out the door, then attacked her with a hungry kiss. Hermione's whole body flushed. It was starting to annoy her how weak she felt around him. Little did she know he felt the same. Whenever she would look at him a certain way or touch his skin, any brain activity stopped.

"We're going to be late," Mrs. Granger called from outside.

"We're coming," she said, and they walked out the door.

The party at the Walkers' house was very similar to the Malfoy holiday parties: a lot of adults making small talk about things that don't matter while kids and teenagers do anything they can to stay awake. Hermione, after making her rounds and telling everyone simple lies as to what she had been up to, sat with Draco in the corner.

"How long do we have to be here?" Draco asked in a displeased tone.

"Quit whining, it's Christmas," she said for the fourth time that hour. "And, as I told you, we'll be going to another party soon, so don't worry."

"Fantastic, I'll have to explain my name and cover story _again_," he felt only slightly bad that he was being so short with her.

"No one at this party will care where you go to school." Draco had no time to ask as they were approached by the young man previously introduced as Jamie Walker. This was his parents' house.

"Hey, 'Mione, ready to go?" he asked, ignoring Draco completely.

"Meet you out front," she replied, getting up quickly. She took Draco's hand and weaved him through the party. "Mum, Dad, we're going to Molly's. We'll be home later." Her parents nodded then returned to their conversation.

"Who's Molly?" Draco asked. Hermione didn't reply. The two met Jamie outside and got in his car, driving a short distance away. Hermione smiled contentedly, but Draco was getting extremely nervous. They stopped outside a house similar to Hermione's and got out. As they drew closer, Draco heard loud music coming from inside.

"Brace yourself," Hermione said to him with a smile, and led him inside.

What Draco found he could not have been ready for. Kids around Draco and Hermione's age were strewn about the house. Some were playing drinking games in one room, others (more subdued) talked with drinks in the kitchen. Draco was introduced to many people, none of which cared about where he went to school or what subjects he liked best. All Hermione had to do was say that he went to school with her and the topic drifted on to something different.

"How are you doing?" Hermione asked after Draco had been silent for twenty minutes. "You're being very quiet." Draco had been studying the Muggle kids.

"Are they drunk?" he asked.

"Most of them, yes," she replied. He looked at her, surprised.

"Hermione Granger, I had no idea you hung around with such ruffians," he teased. "Do you drink often?"

Hermione laughed. "I don't see much point in it, to be honest. But this is where most of my friends are, and I enjoy their company. Usually, I'm the one cleaning up. Speaking of which, I'm going to go to the ladies' room, I'll be back in a moment."

She followed a very drunk girl towards the back of the house. Draco heard the girl moan something like "Oh, Hermione, thank God it's you. I don't feel good..."

Draco stood in the kitchen, unsure of what to do, when a young man Draco had never met approached. "Draco, right?" Draco nodded. "I'm Ethan. Do you want something to drink?" he asked, filling a cup with carbonated amber liquid.

Draco took the cup, suspicious. He asked, "What is it?" Ethan started laughing immediately, irking Draco.

"What, do they not have beer where you're from?" Draco didn't answer, he looked at the guy, willing him to choke on something sharp.

"It's just beer, mate, don't worry about it." _Oh,__like__Butterbeer_, Draco thought as Hermione returned. Ethan handed her a filled cup. "Cheers," he said, and downed the cup. Draco, not willing to be outdone, took a large gulp.

He was really glad there was a sink right behind him.

He spit the drink out as fast as he could, disgusted by its bitter taste. "Why would anyone drink that?" he demanded. "That doesn't taste like Butterbeer at all! What a misleading name, I didn't enjoy that in the slightest!" Ethan was taken aback by Draco's sudden outburst, and Hermione laughed a little. Draco took Hermione's cup away from her ("you don't want that, trust me, it's just a cup full of lies") while she shooed Ethan away.

"He's never had beer before, not to worry, I'll take care of it. Thanks Ethan!" Ethan walked awkwardly away. Hermione then tried to get Draco to stop pouring the beers down the drain, having to hold his face in her hands to focus him. "Draco? Draco!" he stopped and stared at her. "You are behaving very oddly right now, and people will begin to notice. Do you understand?" she asked, slowly and clearly. He paused then nodded. "Good. Put the beer down." He put the beer down. "Good."

"Why would anyone drink this, though?" he asked.

"The same reason why one would drink Fire Whiskey."

"They're homeless?"

Hermione laughed, "No, to get drunk. There are other things you can drink, you don't have to drink beer. And you don't have to drink at all." Draco looked a little disappointed.

"...Looks like fun," he said quietly. Hermione "aww"ed and made him a drink of cranberry juice and vodka. She made sure to not put in too much.

"So who was that Ethan guy?" Draco asked, sipping his drink happily. Hermione shifted her weight, showing she was uncomfortable.

"My ex-boyfriend." Draco choked on his drink.

"Your ex is a _Muggle_?"

"And why wouldn't he be?" his tone offended her.

"Does he know about us?" he asked quietly.

"Do you mean us as a species or us as a couple?" she asked coolly.

Draco thought for a moment. "As a couple."

"No, no one knows. We just got here two days ago, and I've been at home the entire time. You'd know if I had told anyone." Hermione didn't like talking about Ethan.

"Did you tell him about magic?" Draco asked, sharper than intended.

"Did you tell _her_?" she snapped. Her glare softened at the look on his face. "I'm sorry, that was out of line." She put an arm around his waist and pulled herself into him. "We were only together for the summer. He didn't give me the opportunity." She looked up at him, sincerity in her eyes. He gave her a half-smile. She liked that smile.

"Kiss me," she said. He was happy to oblige. When he kissed her, she completely forgot where she was. All that existed was this moment between she and him and what she was physically feeling. It scared her. She lost herself so effectively that, at times, she worried she would open her eyes not knowing where she was or what had happened. _It's__like__drinking_, she thought, wrapping her arms around his waist. _Too__much__at__once__and__you__get__hurt._

The moment she finished her thought, an electric shock erupted between Hermione's and Draco's lips. They sprung apart, rubbing their mouths in pain. "That hasn't happened in a while," said Draco.

"I really hate it when it does," she complained. Draco smirked and poured himself another drink. "Careful," she warned, "too much and you'll get sick."

"I'll be fine," he insisted, and gave her a kiss on the cheek.

Half an hour later, Draco had someone's bra on his head.

He didn't know whose it was, nor was Hermione entirely sure he was aware it was there at all. He was in the main room now, playing drinking games with the rest of the partiers. She found him adorable, the cheery drunk he was, and was very glad she had abstained from drinking that night so she could watch out for him.

"Hi," he said with a huge smile as he stumbled up to her.

"Hello," she replied. "How are you feeling?"

Draco took a mental count of himself and decided, "A-maaaaaa-ziiiiiiiiing." He then decided, "I think I'll kiss you now, is that okay?" Hermione smiled and nodded. "Of course it is," he assured himself "I'm awesome." Then kissed her.

"I have had an epiphany," he slurred. "This 'beer pong' business is a lot more fun than I expected."

"Are you winning?"

"You know, I'm not quite sure," he laughed. "If I don't get the ball in the cup, I have to drink. If I get the ball in the cup, they have to drink. Drinking is just... _spiffing_ so I really don't know how you could lose!"

"_Spiffing_, Draco? Really?" He shushed her.

"You're killing my buzz, 'Mione... completely."

"'Killing my buzz'? Where did you hear that?"

"I read it on the outernet."

"You mean internet."

"Whatever."

"How did you get on the internet?"

"Nanette had a computer, duhh." Though she had never heard him say that name before, it felt familiar.

"Who's Nanette, Draco?" she asked gently. Draco's face turned very serious and he glared at the wall, thinking.

"Don't want to talk about her," he denied any thought by shaking his head very animatedly. "Nope, nope, no, no, no, nononono. I don't want to talk about it. I'd rather DRINK SOME MORE," he shouted, eliciting a lot of 'woo's from the crowd. He ran off to the beer pong table, forgetting about their conversation almost immediately.

It was a lot more difficult than Hermione would assume, getting Draco steadily up the stairs and holding a glass of water at the same time. He was being very noisy, still in a happy state of drunkenness, commenting on everything he could think of. "I dunno _what_ those Muggles were complaining about, beer pong was so easyyy," he slurred louder than Hermione would have liked.

"Can you focus a little more on walking forward?" she grunted under his weight.

He looked very serious for a moment, said, "I'll take that challenge," and sprinted forward. He pulled himself around corner, barely gripping the banister, hurled himself through the door to their bedroom, and fell onto his bed with a soft _fwump_. He grabbed his pillow and hugged it tightly. "I love you, pillow. You're so pretty." Hermione put the glass of water on his nightstand.

"Draco, I need you to drink this now, okay?" Draco seemed to only just notice her. He broke out into a big smile.

"Hello Hermione. You're so pretty," his voice took an unusually high pitched tone. She smiled.

"Thank you, Draco. You're very pretty, too." He smiled more. She leaned in and gave him a deep kiss goodnight. He really _was_ very pretty. "Drink more water. You'll regret it if you don't." He put up a fuss, but then begrudgingly drank two glasses then settled down to sleep.

"Good night Draco." He turned over in his bed, smiling.

"Good night Netta."

**dun dun DUNNNNN**

**I think I'll end every chapter with dun dun dun from now on :p**


	19. 19 Christmas

Hiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii. Didn't think I'd have another chapter up so quick, did you? No faith! But in all honesty, this May will be the five year mark since I first published Chapter 1. You guys have stuck with me, and it just means the world to me. So thank you guys so much! and I hope it won't be another five years until I finish :p

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Draco had a dream that night. The same as Hermione's from so many months before. He hadn't realized what had terrified her until now. There was the same blank screen in the middle of nothing; the same shrill cry of the camera, spitting out image after image- like memories hacking out the throat of a dying man.

Cries of pain and fear shot at him, making his ears ring. He fell towards the screen, inching towards it. If he could just get to it, he could tear it away. He could make it all go away. Hermione's voice managed to surface amongst the others. "Help me!" she screamed, "Help me!" It went on and on.

"I'm sorry!" he shrieked back. But he wasn't talking to Hermione. He broke down sobbing. "I'm sorry." Draco curled up, wrapping his arms around his head to block out the sound. He squeezed his eyes as tight as he could, just to make the pictures disappear. It was his fault. It was all his fault. Nanette, Hermione, his family, his friends: his fault. He knew it was true, because they were telling him. The voices and the screams were telling him it was his fault. The pain turned to anger, and Draco begged to be saved. He screamed his regret until someone pulled him from the dark.

"Draco, you're fine. Listen to me, Draco. Wake up, Draco, wake up," Hermione shook him, trying to break him of his nightmare. His eyes sprang open and his chest heaved; she could feel his heart beat: frighteningly fast.

His reaction to the awful dream was in stark contrast to Hermione's back in September. He sat silently, not reaching for Hermione as she had him. He caught his breath and just thought for a while. "I'm sorry," he said quietly.

"Why?" Hermione asked lightly. He didn't answer. "Are you alright?" She moved some hair out of his face. He moved away, crawling back underneath the sheets. He didn't deserve for her to like him.

"I'm fine," he said. "It was your dream from before. The one with the screen and pictures. I had that dream." Hermione's heart immediately sank for him. She lay down next to him, and he let her, hating himself for how selfish he was being. "I can see why you were so terrified," he admitted.

"Everyone I've ever loved or known screaming for me to help them, and I can't do anything? Yes, I was definitely terrified."

"They were so angry," Draco said distractedly. Hermione searched her memories, confused.

"The ones I heard were fearful and sad. Yours were angry?"

He hesitated. "Eventually." Hermione turned this idea over in her mind. She had wondered why he was so tense. Perhaps his dream was more attack rather than plea for help. "I don't feel well," he said groggily. "Is this the famous hangover I've been hearing about?" Hermione smiled.

"Go back to sleep. You weren't that drunk, you'll be fine by morning." She kissed his forehead and went back to her bed. He turned over and, with little difficulty, returned to sleep.

"What are you getting me for Christmas?" Draco asked cheekily the day before the big holiday.

"The gift of friendship," Hermione answered. Draco laughed sarcastically, but there was no way she was giving away the surprise, even if his gift was nothing extravagant. In the back of her mind, she worried about his being disappointed. She knew the popularity among people her age of sending inappropriate photos or dressing up for sex. Hermione was never, and likely would never, be that type of girl. She blushed just thinking about it.

"Why are you going all red?" Draco laughed. Hermione's face flushed even more, and she quickly changed the subject. Thinking about it, Hermione had noticed lately that her and Draco's relationship was more dynamic than ever. One day, he would be distant; the next day, he would be caring and sweet. It was extremely confusing and frustrating to her, giving up all power in the relationship. The one benefit was that when he _was_ interested, he was _extremely_ interested. A sexy gift for Christmas became more and more attractive an idea for her as their physical relationship grew.

Today was an attentive day. Her frustration faded when he first cornered her outside their bedroom door. They kissed deeply and randomly throughout the day. Draco saw it as a fun little game- try to catch her off guard while not letting her parents see. If he had the opportunity, he'd run away after and just let her react to being taken by surprise.

Draco's dreams still bothered him, though he didn't have that same one again. Now, he barely remembered his dreams. Only a few small parts remained ingrained in his memory: a flash of light; a loud bang; and Nanette's sad, sad eyes. Part of him knew that she would want him to be happy, but an equal part felt that she deserved better. He forged a constant battle within himself, which only made him feel worse. He saw on his bad days how much it saddened Hermione. He'd then vow to be better to her tomorrow. The next day, a good day, he would see how Hermione smiled, and it would just remind him of how he had betrayed. But the way he acted yesterday- he barely spoke 10 words to her- deserved major apologizing. So here he was, sitting at the table, pretending to read until she turned her back. When she did, putting a dish in the sink, he snuck up behind and attacked.

He pressed his lips hungrily to her, pulling her in by her lower back. Her parents were out getting last minute gifts, so there was little to no chance that they would walk in. Hermione left out a soft gutteral noise, part out of surprise and part out of pleasure.

Worrying thoughts popped into her head, as they often do when she's in an intimate situation. Questions of how far and how quick drifted through her mind and she couldn't help but panic briefly. These questions raced through her mind each time Draco did this. And each time she is grateful that Draco stops suddenly enough that she gets to avoid the answers for another short while.

Despite Draco's attempt at denial, it was the best Christmas he had ever had. Christmas Eve night everyone piled in the car and went around town looking at the houses lit up, holiday music drifting out of the radio. When they returned they watched a Muggle Christmas movie the family had watched every year since Hermione was little. Everyone was decently groggy by the time the credits rolled; Hermione had fallen asleep on Draco's shoulder. She woke up reluctantly and only long enough for Draco to drag her to bed. Her parents each kissed her good night, bid Draco adieu, and closed their bedroom door.

Once in their room again, Hermione sat down heavily on her bed and changed while Draco brushed his teeth. After the lights had been turned off, however, Hermione snuck over and slipped into Draco's bed. She wrapped her arm around him and immediately felt much more comfortable. They drifted off, and Draco had his first nightmareless sleep all week.

Christmas morning, Draco awoke to Hermione staring at him. She was smiling, and he welcomed her warmth on the cold December morning. "Merry Christmas", she said, kissing him.

"A girl in my bed! Just what I wanted! Thanks Hermione!" She laughed.

"Well enjoy it," she said, "because I only got you a book for your real gift." Draco put on a sarcastically shocked face.

"Hermione Granger, how _dare_ you ruin the surprise! You're not supposed to tell! What is _wrong_ with you? And a book? Hermione Granger bought a book? Dear God, woman, what is this world coming to?"

The moment 9 AM hit, Hermione rushed to wake her parents. Mrs. Granger made everyone hot chocolate as the family rifled through their stockings. Draco was touched to find that he had one, too. Hermione glowed tearing through her new trinkets (ink, quills, candy, etc). Draco saw years of tradition that morning, from the Santa hats everyone was required to wear, to the way presents were evenly and systematically distributed. It was an unspoken agreement this tiny family had, that Christmas was to be done the Granger way. Thinking about the Malfoy way his parents spent Christmas, he felt cold. It was likely that they were eating breakfast in silence and had bought their own gifts. Another night of lavish parties with important people and then it was over. _I suppose we do have traditions then after all_, he thought.

By the afternoon, however, there was nothing left to do until dinner. Hermione looked at her new books with sparkling eyes and Draco sifted through his small pile happily. He curiously picked up one of Hermione's more colorful books, but his face fell when he realized it was a romance novel.

_A story of two forbidden lovers, their love blossomed one summer by the sea. His family (rich, powerful, and dangerous) threatened to tear them apart. Their love an eternal secret, they vow to be together forever. But tragedy strikes and spins a story of loss, betrayal, and the power of a second chance._

Despite it's flashy description, the story behind it hit too close to home. Did Nanette like Christmas? He never had the opportunity to ask. It broke his heart to think about her family on the first holiday without her. He had known her for two months and his life felt empty. He couldn't even imagine how they must be feeling. If their family was anything like the Grangers, loving and tight-knit, then the hole in their lives must now be bigger than ever.

Draco shook his head to try and clear it of those dark thoughts. The constant conflict inside him was making him angrier than ever. He was happy with Hermione; why couldn't he just let it go? Isn't he allowed to be happy?

_No_, his mind answered for him. Draco sighed, giving up on his internal argument.

"Are you alright?" Hermione asked, guaging his temperament.

"Fine," he said, trying his best to seem happy for her. She studied him for signs otherwise, not believing him for a moment. "I know what I want to do for my day though- the day I won on the train."

"What do you want to do?" Draco paused for a long moment, willing himself to tell her what only a handful of people knew.

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Dun dun dunnnn. Yeah that's getting annoying, I won't do that anymore. Nanette's story will be at least three chapters long, and I'm about half way done with it, so it should be up soon! :) R&R and all that Jazz :D


	20. 20 Nanette, Pt 1

Hello! The following three chapters are Nanette's story, told in flashback. I played around with the idea of giving her and Draco their own fic, but I have too much going on to do that. I hope you like it and finally see why Draco is so conflicted. I'm quite a few chapters ahead of you now (writing Chapter 25 this week), so updates should be coming regularly. Not every day though. I honestly have no idea how any of you can do that. But I love you all, and thank you so much! -Katherine

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Chapter 20- Nanette, Pt. 1

It was the first day of summer break, and Draco was already bored. His mother and father were travelling, and all he had to entertain himself was his large collection of material possessions and the old servant, Charlie, who would take him wherever he wanted to go. Draco stared bitterly out the window. His parents always left him alone in the summer. He never saw them during the school year, so he would assume that they would want to visit with him while he was home. _Apparently, I was wrong_, he thought, willing the nearest tree to catch fire. He huffed at the window. His eyes fell to a Muggle village farther down the valley. His family's mansion sat atop a hill, bewitched to be invisible to the Muggle eye. It was very isolating.

The closest wizarding town was over an hour away, and Draco wasn't that desperate. With an evil smirk he grabbed his cloak and headed to that small Muggle town. Walking through, he could tell he stood out more than he'd like. Feeling self-conscious, he reminded himself that Muggles weren't proper people or worthy of opinion anyway and he felt better.

He settled himself on a bench and took his wand out under his cloak. He spent a good half hour tormenting random Muggles that walked by, giving them jelly legs, tickling them, and other tiny things that lasted only long enough to make them wonder. He was having a very good time until a random blonde girl walked up and sat down next to him.

He was taken aback and wondered if he had done enough to get him caught. He had already turned 17, so he wasn't technically doing anything illegal. Still, he doubted Muggles knew about any of that. He was searching his mind for an escape route when she spoke.

"Has the bus come yet?" She had big green eyes. Draco looked away nervously and didn't answer. The girl checked her watch and relaxed against the back of the bench.

"Excuse me, but, what is that you're wearing? It's very interesting." Draco was very sure his father would disapprove of his talking to a Muggle.

"It's just a cloak," he answered, not wanting to look at her again.

"Aren't you hot? I don't know what temperature it is under there, but out here it's a warm sunny day."

Draco was still wary of speaking to a Muggle, but figured it would be suitable punishment to his father for leaving him. He allowed himself to turn her way slightly when he talked again. "I'm used to it." There was an awkward silence.

"So, where are you headed?" the strange girl asked.

"Headed?" he asked, confused.

"Well, you're at a bus stop." He turned around and saw the small sign with a picture of a bus on it.

"I didn't intend to go anywhere, I just meant to sit down," he said, starting to feel annoyed. Are all Muggles this nosy? He liked it better when they didn't talk.

"You're not from around here, are you?" she smiled. "I can tell. You're different." Draco began to panic. If he just walked away now, it might seem even more out of place. She might suspect him. Before he had the opportunity to flee, she rose to her feet. The Muggle bus made its appearance, and she climbed on. Just when he thought it was over, the girl turned around and gestured him to follow. "Are you coming?" she asked.

"I don't have any money," he answered, feigning disappointment and backing away slowly.

"It isn't much. I'll pay for you. Come on, I'm hungry." Draco's stomach growled loudly, and she took this as consent. She pulled him aboard and they took their seats. "I'm Nanette by the way."

Nanette talked almost the entire journey straight. Luckily, it wasn't a long one. Draco chimed in when necessary, but for the msot part sat quietly. He figured if he didn't encourage her, he could count this as kidnapping. Or, even better, he was purposefully taking advantage of her by getting her to pay for him. He recalled that even the smallest amount of money is important to poor people. He was satisfied with both arguments.

They got off the bus in the center of town. A slightly more busy area, Draco felt overwhelmed by the Muggles bustling about. It was less crowded than Diagon Alley in August, but he always had his parents around, and there were no Muggles. Standing on the sidewalk that June afternoon, he felt incredibly alone.

Nanette pulled him into a bakery and ordered her and Draco sandwiches. They sat down in the corner, away from most other customers. "So Draco's an odd name. Where's it from?"

'My family has been nothing but wizards for centuries. It's pretty normal for magical people. Now die, Muggle, and give me all your sweeties!' is what Draco wanted to say. Instead he opted for "it means dragon in Latin." Nanette smiled.

"You don't seem like much of a dragon." Draco put down his sandwich.

"What's that supposed to mean?" He felt the familiar prickle of anger down his body. She looked at him with kind eyes.

"You're very quiet," she said simply. He scoffed.

"As opposed to someone who just kidnaps strangers and forces bus rides, sandwiches, and random conversation on them?" He took another bite, though, because it was a very good sandwich.

"Maybe if you weren't so quiet, you might have mentioned that you wanted me to leave you alone." She had him there. He had been quiet that day, but what does she know, the stupid Muggle. While he was brooding silently, a waitress brought Nanette her dessert: a giant chocolate cupcake. Draco's mouth began to drool at the sight.

"Want some?" she offered, handing him a fork. He didn't hesitate. It was so rich he thought he might be sick, but in a good way.

"It's almost _too_ sugary," he said, taking a drink to cleanse his palette.

"No such thing as too much sugar." She winked.

"My mother never lets me have sweets. She thinks all my precious teeth will fall out and hurt her darling boy. And my father feels that fat men are never respected."

"They sound great," she said sarcastically. She looked at him for a moment, as though deciding something. Draco didn't like the way he reacted to the rebellious gleam in her eyes. "Do you _always_ do what your parents tell you?"

"I'm hanging out with you, aren't I?" He found himself returning her flirtatious tone.

"Your parents don't want you hanging out with girls?"

"Certain girls."

"What's wrong with me?"

"It's complicated." She thought for a moment as though deciding if she wanted to force an explanation out of him.

"Well you haven't caught fire yet. But maybe you _should_ go... just in case." Draco laughed. He thought back to how his parents were never around and barely ever spoke to him for any reason other than to tell him what not to do, and he smirked evilly.

"Let's put it this way: I am _very_ interested in disobeying." The corner of Nanette's mouth lifted.

"I think I can help with that."

Draco returned to town every day that week. He got Charlie to exchange some money his parents had left him into pounds through the Floo Network. Though he had a hard time thinking of Nanette as an equal, he couldn't deny that she had been nicer to him in the last few days than his parents ever were. Plus, there came a certain thrill with her not knowing he was a wizard.

Nanette didn't entirely let go of Draco's family's judgments of her. Draco was being far too mysterious about his life for her to not be intrigued. It _was_ very strange. Little things like getting the bus or using a phone made Draco obviously uncomfortable. He insisted he had forgotten over the long school years or just never had use for such activities. But these excuses seemed panicked, and she was suspicious.

After two weeks, Nanette insisted he buy real clothes. "I"m not saying the vampire look isn't hot. I'm just saying that you look really weird. Also, I need to buy some shorts and I don't want to go alone."

Draco resisted. "This is how they dress at my school. I've been there since I was 11. I'm attached." But she convinced him to at least try things on, and he followed, whining loudly.

"You're such a baby," she scoffed, pulling him in to a shop full of jeans and t-shirts.

"Ugh," he sneered. "Muggle clothes."

"What clothes?" A prickle of fear ran up Draco's spine at his slip up.

"Ugly clothes." She stuck her tongue out at him, and he relaxed.

She picked out a few things for herself, then formed a nice, alrge pile for him to try on. "Here," she said. "Put these on, and I want to see them."

Again he grimaced. "Have other people worn theses?"

"Probably," Nanette answered.

"That's disgusting," he said under his breath. He unbuttoned his cloak and pulled off his shirt.

"We have a fitting room," the sales clerk said behind him. Nanette rushed over and pulled him to the corner of the shop.

"Sorry," Draco said, embarrassed. "The shop we get our uniforms in is pretty private already... no fitting rooms."

Nanette smiled and put a hand on his cheek, giving him a look of pity. "You are so socially awkward," she teased, so he pushed her out of the room. "I want to see them on!" she called from the next room. She pulled on a pair of shorts, decided she didn't like them, and tried on another. She was done with her piled before Draco was one with one outfit. "Come on, loser, I don't have all day."

Draco scoffed. "First of all, yes you do. Second of all, I would like to post a disclaimer saying that I have never worn jeans and a t-shirt in my entire life, so if I look ridiculous, it is not my fault."

Nanette was about to ask how he had never worn jeans when he opened the curtain. "Aww, you look so normal," she cried, faking tears. Draco laughed sarcastically. "Alright, you can't wear the same clothes every day. Try more." He shut the curtain reluctantly and Nanette's eyes began to wander. She gasped at a pair of shorts she had missed before. She had been looking for a pair that color. She grabbed her size and ran into Draco's dressing room.

"What the hell, I'm not done yet." He had just picked up a shirt to try on.

"I'll be out in a second," she said, and she took her pants off. Draco flushed and covered his eyes.

"Do you often just strip down in front of guys you barely know?" She laughed.

"You don't have to shut your eyes, Draco, I really don't care." Despite the thought that he might go to hell for it, Draco put down his hand. He looked at the wall, though. He was still a gentleman. "Aren't they cute?" she exclaimed once she was fully clothed again.

"Very nice," he said shortly.

"You didn't even see them."

"I don't want to look at your ass, that's rude."

"Well, you should have told me about that rule sooner. I've been staring at yours for two weeks now."

He gasped dramatically. "I am not an object," he cried, feigning grief.

"See, now you have to look. It's only fair. Do it for man kind. This oppression has to end, Draco!"

"You're right. Turn around." He stared. "I still feel like an ass hole."

"That just means that you're one of the good ones," she said sweetly, giving him a light kiss on the cheek. He smiled. His classmates treated him like a bully or a God; no one in his life had ever genuinely called him a nice person.

That was the day he fell in love with Nanette.


	21. 21 Nanette, Pt 2

For Kayla.

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Chapter 21- Nanette, Pt. 2

Now, Draco didn't know right away that he loved her. He just didn't notice. Sure, she was beautiful and adventurous and he had more fun with her than with anyone he had ever known... but Draco was a 17-year-old boy. He wasn't even allowing himself to have typical 17-year-old boy thoughts about her, let alone love her. Still, he couldn't deny the way his stomach felt whenever she showed up or looked at him a little too long.

One night, mid-July, he got an owl from his parents saying they'd be gone for at least another two weeks. He fell on his bed, disappointed but not surprised. He drifted off to sleep and had a very peculiar dream. When he woke up, the details were fuzzy. All he could remember were glimpses of Nanette in very provocative positions wearing very sexy lingerie. And he was there doings things should make his stomach turn.

"She's a Muggle," he shouted at himself. He paced back and forth across his room. "That's disgusting." He thought about the dream again and got distracted for a moment. "Why would I dream that?" Whatever he said to himself, he couldn't stop thinking about her- the way her body moved, the way she smiled, the sarcastic banter. Only half of these memories came from his dream.

Suddenly he noticed how much he noticed. "Why shouldn't I notice?" he asked his pillow. "It's not like anyone in our world would deny that she's beautiful. In fact, if you take away the magic/non-magic factor, no one would notice anything."

He thought back to everything his father had told him about Muggles and sighed. "Nanette isn't a single one of those things." His father had been wrong. Everything he had ever been told was a lie.

_Crash!_ Draco threw a glass vase against the wall. He shlumped down on his bed, defeated. Charlie heard the noise and rushed upstairs.

"Is everything alright, sir?" he asked, searching the room for trouble. Draco sighed.

"I'm fine, Charlie. I just got a bit angry." Charlie relaxed, leaning on the door frame for support. Draco hesitated, but asked, "You're a pure blood, right Charlie?"

"I doubt your mother and father would have hired me if I were anything else, young master." Draco smiled. He was probably right about that one.

"Do you hate Muggles?"

Charlie knew perfectly well that Draco was friends with a Muggle, but he still hesitated. "I have always felt, sir, that we as wizards and they as Muggles are simply two sides of the same coin. We have the ability to manipulate magic, and they have the ability to manipulate what they need for their technology. We have potions and charms, but they have electricity and computers. I see neither society as superior.

Draco soaked in Charlie's words. "Well put," he muttered into his hands. His body was exhausted from the new tear in his world. He was meeting Nanette in an hour. For the first time since he met her, he wasn't looking forward to it.

Today, Draco was going to see Nanette's house for the first time. her parents were at work, but we was still nervous. Her dog barked when they came in. Nanette gave Draco a tour of the house, leading him out to the backyard. Nothing could prepare him for the beauty he saw.

Every inch was covered in roses. Red, yellow, white... all combinations of shapes and sizes. "My parents have never liked gardening much, so I took over. I have a thing for roses," she laughed.

"Yeah, I can tell."

"The yellow are my favorite." She felt the soft petals with the tips of her fingers. "Do you want to watch a movie?" Draco had no idea what a movie was, so he just nodded to be agreeable. She led him to her room.

Nanette's bed was very small. They lay there together, right up against one another. Nanette lay her head on his shoulder. Draco decided not to think and put his arm around her. She let escape a small smile. She caught him staring and turned her head. "What are you staring at?" she whispered.

"You," he whispered back. She studied his face, her eyes falling to his lips.

Never in his life had he ever thought he would kiss a Muggle. He had said this to himself who knows how many times, but there he sat, next to her, nerves going crazy over the way she smelled and the way her lips moved. "I like you," he said when their lips no longer met. She smiled.

"I like you."

"Come to my house tomorrow," he said before he lost the nerve. She nodded and he kissed her again before he had the chance to wake up.

"I need to ease you into this," he said, taking her hand. She nodded, unsure of what he was talking about. "My family secret is big- homeland security big- but we're allowed to tell people that we trust." He led her out into the front yard. "I trust you on most everything. But for this, I have to be more than sure. For now, let's just pretend that my family comes from a distant land and our culture and habits are different than yours." Nanette laughed.

"Yeah, that much I gathered already." Draco turned very serious.

"Netta, don't joke. I need to know you understand how serious this is." She nodded and bit her lip. She trusted him, but couldn't shake the fear that he was a little crazy. He smiled. Suddenly he took her hand and pulled her along excitedly. "We can't go inside, not yet, but you can meet Charlie. And I think I have something you'll like." Nanette nearly tripped with how quickly he tugged her around the house. It was a big and dark mansion. It was so cold and unfriendly looking Nanette had a hard time believing that someone as genuine and funny as Draco lived there.

Nanette met Charlie the family driver with pleasure. He was a sweet old man who looked positively delighted to meet her.

The Draco showed her the back yard: full of red roses. He had never really noticed them before she showed him her garden. Now he found them to be beautiful. They lay there under the shade of the trees for hours, Draco explaining what he could of his world. Kids like him went to a special school all together far away in a beautiful castle called Hogwarts. He explained the four houses and the House cup, but kept clear of classes and Quidditch. In his culture, he said, they drank pumpkin juice with dinner and ate the best candy. They had their own government and ministry and their own contained little world where they never had to meet outsiders if they didn't wish it.

"That's why your family doesn't want you to see me. It's not that I'm a girl, it's that I'm an outsider," Nanette said. Draco nodded.

"We call everyone who isn't like us 'Muggles'. And some people in our world look down on them for being Muggles."

"What a weird word."

"There's so much more, Netta. More weird words, more food, more everything. It's literally an entire world you don't know about."

"But I _will_ know about it?" Draco thought a moment.

"If you're good." He smirked and decided that there had been enough talking for one day and not nearly enough kissing.

For the next few days, Draco tested her by detailing every part of his world he could without mentioning magic. On days he'd mention little, she wouldn't ask him for more greedily. Other days, he'd talk for hours and she would listen patiently. Nanette told him about herself as well. She detailed her dreams of being a writer and traveling the world. Finally, after they had know each other for just over a month, Draco decided to tell her. His stomach twisted and turned so much he thought he would vomit, but overall he was excited. He kissed her for a long time when she showed up at his house that morning.

"Remember this, okay?" he said, staring at her seriously. "Remember that what I'm about to show you doesn't change me. I have never lied to you or changed who I am to hide this secret. I'm still Draco. I just have some... abilities."

"If you tell me you're Batman, I will barf on you." He loved that she stood in face of this potentially awful secret and mocked it with sarcastic pizazz.

They approached the front door of Malfoy Manor and went inside. It was dark, but then fires lit the chandelier by themselves. Dim, ominous lighting lit the parlor to reveal huge staircases leading off and away. There were rooms everywhere: it was as though the inside was bigger than the outside let show. "Draco, it's beautiful." Draco looked confused.

"What, my house? Me being rich wasn't the secret, here, Netta." He led her to the room directly next to the parlor. He smirked and whispered in her ear, "Look at the paintings."

She studied one in particular- a portrait of a thin old man in a cloak similar to what Draco wore when they met. She stared at his face, taking in the details when- no wait, he _couldn't_ have- did the man just blink? She turned to Draco, confused, but when she turned around again, the man had gone. She squealed in surprise.

"Did he... did I...? Where did he go?" Draco chuckled to himself. This was more fun than he thought.

"He left. Who wouldn't with the way you were staring?" he laughed. "Don't worry, he'll turn up. Come along, lots to show you!"

He led Nanette excitedly upstairs, turning a few corners to get to his bedroom. "This is my room," he said, sitting her down on his bed. "These are my school robes... my textbooks... quill and ink..." He placed these items on the bed around her. She looked at him curiously. He gestured towards his school things and she took a second look.

Her fingers traced the Slytherin crest against the smooth black of his school robes. She took the feather quill and spun it in her hand. These objects _were_ out of place. She didn't realize how out of place until she picked up the first book.

_Standard Book of Spells, Grade 6.._. _Spells?_ she asked herself. Draco sat next to her, watching her study. She opened the text and saw diagrams of wand movements and advice on incantation pronunciation. She couldn't help but admire how well it was put together for a joke book. It was _too_ well put together.

"This isn't very funny, Draco." She looked at him seriously. He looked back, but with such sad eyes she felt awful instantly. He took her hands.

"Please, Netta. Believe me. This is my world. I go to a school where I wear these robes, use these quills, read these books-"

"And practice these spells?" She was suspicious, but not completely disbelieving. He took out his wand and showed her.

"I bought this in Diagon Alley with my parents when I was eleven. The wand chooses the wizard- this is my wand. I can prove it. Just don't freak out."

The quill floated above Nanette's head for a good solid minute before she moved. Her initial gasp when Draco first said the incantation filled him with dread. She got up eventually, though, but instead of running away screaming, she waved her hand around the feather to check for wires. When she decided that the feather was really flying, she burst out laughing. Draco set the quill down and stared at her cautiously. She smiled at him. "You're not scared?"

"Are you kidding? I'm terrified! But Draco, this is amazing! What else can you do?"

"Well, I don't mean to brag, but what you saw was a first year spell and I'm now a seventh year, so..."

"Yeah, well I can board a bus without looking mentally handicapped." He should have been insulted, but he kissed her instead, and she returned it with relish. She pulled him into her by his lower back, aching to be closer to him. He picked her up into his arms; her legs wrapped around his waist. Draco pushed her up against the wall, pinning her there. He kissed her neck while his heartbeat doubled in pace. His hands slid up her shirt, feeling the warm flesh underneath. He wanted her badly- especially now that he had nothing to hide.

"Shut the door," she said roughly in his ear. Apparently she had his same idea. He waved his wand and the door slammed shut. She laughed and they stopped kissing. "I'm sorry, that's just insanely cool." He smiled and attacked her hungrily again. Another wave and his things flew off the bed, but this time, Nanette took no notice. Draco lay her down gently and she tugged at his shirt.

As it was lifted over his head, Nanette kissed his neck and ran her hand down his chest. "I probably should mention-" he breathed heavily- "I haven't done this before."

"Me either," she said.

Draco stopped and asked sincerely, "Are you sure, then?" Nanette looked at him affectionately and moved a piece of hair out of his face.

She kissed him again, but slowly now. "I think I love you." Draco smiled, and brought his lips back to hers. His body grinded against hers as they undressed one another, peeling off one layer at a time. Soft moans escaped Nanette's lips as Draco touched every bit of skin that he could find. She tugged at his hair and lost herself completely in him. They were all the way down to their underwear when Nanette interrupted them.

"Wait, wait- do you have something?"

"What?" he asked roughly into her neck.

"Protection? Or is there a spell you can use?" she laughed.

Draco grabbed his wand from the bedside table and murmured the incantation. "Seriously?" she asked, eyes wide. He nodded. "That's... convenient."

"Right?" Draco replied. Just sitting in front of her, Draco's long lean body reminded her instantly of the task at hand. She straddled him and ground her hips into his. She could feel his excitement building under her. He moaned aloud in surprise and she giggled mischievously. She ran her fingers through his hair and kissed his neck, fully aware of any effect she was having.

He couldn't take it anymore. He climbed on top of Nanette again and snapped off her bra. She ripped off his underwear, and he hers. For a tiny moment he looked into her eyes, searching for regret. She nodded, fire behind her eyes, signalling she was ready. He put his mouth to hers and entered her.

She gasped into their kiss; her fingers tightened around his shoulder. Draco felt like he was going to explode. "Are you alright?" he asked huskily into her ear.

He expected her to ask him to stop of a whimper of pain, but instead she moaned, "Don't stop."

He moved in and out in fluid motions, wanting it to last forever. They both grabbed at the headboard in ecstasy. She let out soft moans telling him to continue. He moved faster and harder with every cue from Nanette until they were both feeling the fantastic approach of climax.

In the final throws, they moaned each other's names aloud and collapsed in a heap of sweaty mess. Their chests heaved; they were very tired. "Whoever said the first time wouldn't be any good is stupid," Nanette said out of breath.

"I agree," Draco said into her breasts. He had buried his head there after falling on top of her. She pushed him off her, then snuggled up next to him. He played with strands of her long blonde hair while she stroked his chest.

"By the way," he said just before they drifted off to sleep. "I love you, too."

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Sorry if the smut scene wasn't very good. Trust me. It'll get down and dirty much later in the fic :) Thank you all! Especially to those of you who review! I get emails about people adding me to alerts and it makes me super happy! But I barely get any reviews :( I like to hear from you! -Katherine


	22. 22 Nanette, Pt 3

Sorry if this took a bit longer... I like to keep my writing a few chapters ahead of what I publish so that I can make edits if I need to. Here's the tragic conclusion of Nanette's story. I hope you guys now understand why Draco has been so conflicted when it comes to Hermione. That was my only goal of writing these three chapters. As always, please review! Your words mean so much to me! Moonlit-Midnights: One of my favorite things to hear is that my writing feels real, so thank you thank you thank you for your review about Draco at the end of Chapter 12. You all brighten my day SO much, you really have no idea :) -Katherine

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Chapter 22- Nanette, Pt. 3

The month and a half Draco had known Nanette were the happiest of his life. She made him feel like he was worth something. _Him_- not just the family name. They continued to spend every day together. Draco had met Nanette's parents, kind and hard-working people, and Nanette had agreed to keep her and Draco's relationship a secret from his family.

His parents showed up around early August, but barely suspected that he left every day, let alone knew where he was going. The only change in he and Nanette's relationship was location: they could no longer afford to make appearances at Malfoy Manor in case they were discovered. They watched movies, read books, and had a lot more sex than originally anticipated. He showed her every charm he could manage and detailed his most boring homework to hungry ears. Nanette was keen to learn everything she could about this new world and hoped, one day, it would become another place she would visit on her trip around the world.

The temperature skyrocketed that beautiful August, and Nanette begged Draco to go with her to a nearby lake to camp for the weekend. Draco was wary of the idea; he had never traveled on his own before. When the weekend finally came to leave, Draco packed his bag into the car with obvious displeasure.

"Do you not want to go?" Nanette asked him.

"It's not that. I'll do anything with you," he said sweetly, and she smiled. "I don't like cars. I never have. I can only ride in the back of the limo because I can't see the road from back there."

Nanette laughed, happy he still wanted to go away with him. "Don't worry, I'm a very safe driver."

They were on the road for twenty minutes when the thing Draco was most fearing happened. "So you go to school September 1?" she asked, eyes on the road.

"Yup." His stomach filled with lead. He had dreaded this conversation. He loved Nanette more than he thought he could ever love anything. But what if she met someone when he went away to school? What if she couldn't handle the magical world? He was determined that he would leave his family after this year and be with Nanette. He would get a job by his own credit, not with help from his father.

"What do you want to do about us when you go to school?" she asked quietly.

"Well, I-" he began, but he was cut off. An SUV had slammed into his side of the car, and Nanette's four-door sedan crashed into the center divide. The car spun in several circles before stopping; both passengers were knocked unconscious.

Draco dreamed he was floating, surrounded by trees. He heard yelling off in the distance, but didn't think anything of it. Leaves fell around him and he was happy. Something hit against his chest, making him fall. He breathed deeply, looking around for the cause, when he was hit again and brought up out of his dreamland.

Draco woke up and several paramedics were hunched over him, speaking quickly. He gasped- had he stopped breathing?- and a man to his right asked him what his name was.

"Netta," he said, searching around. "Where's Netta?"

"Sir, you have to keep calm and stay still. Your friend is being taken care of."

"WHERE IS SHE?" he yelled. She finally caught his eye, lying by the wreckage. No one was standing around her. Why was there no one taking care of her? He ran to her; a searing pain shot through his leg, but he didn't care. Nanette wasn't moving. "Netta?" He picked her up into his arms and moved the hair from her face. He noticed blood on his hands and her face. She was too pale, too white; why was no one taking care of her?

"Netta, wake up," Draco begged, starting to cry. "Netta, please. Please, Netta, please." The police started to ask him questions again. Draco looked around for someone to help, and he spotted a black van with "CORONER" written on the side. When they started to head in his direction, he grabbed her tighter and screamed at them no. From that point, his memories started to fade. There were random shots that he would remember, but then he would lose consciousness again. He remembered fighting to get the police off of him as they zipped up a body bag. He remembered waking up screaming and writhing in an ambulance. He remembered wizards from the Ministry taking him to St. Mungo's from the Muggle hospital. He remembered being asked a lot of questions and answering none of them. He remembered not speaking or moving for hours at a time, then screaming as loud as he could for her to come back.

And finally, he remembered taking an axe to the family rose garden.

They healed Draco's broken leg instantly at St. Mungo's, so the only wounds he was left with were a cut on his lip and a gash they had bandaged across his cheek bone. His parents had been called when Draco was retrieved from the hospital. Lucius, finally aware of his son's whereabouts that summer, immediately interrogated Draco on the subject of his abominable relationship. Draco didn't react to a single question. He stood, eyes out of focus, in his father's study while Lucius paced back and forth.

"Did you _once_ think about how this would look if it got out?" Draco said nothing. "The way our friends and allies would react?" Nothing. "Everything this family stands for, gone?" Nothing. "Over some summer fling with the local tramp." _Ptoo_. Draco had spat in his father's face. Lucius slapped him hard across his cut cheek, sending a shock wave of pain through Draco's body. That pain was nothing compared to the pain he knew he'd feel when it finally hit him what had happened that day. It couldn't have happened, it wasn't _possible_. But it did. And at some point, it would hit him like his father just had.

"Remember, _boy_, where your allegiance lies. Get out." With the same emotionless hazed look, Draco left.

Nanette's funeral was held a week after the crash. Draco led her coffin down the aisle, eyes red and puffy from the violent break down he had had behind the church moments before. He decided not to speak, though her parents had asked him to. He and Nanette's world was something he didn't want anyone to know about. They would ruin it.

The two weeks leading up to September 1 went by in slow motion, but ended in a flash. Everything Draco did took extra effort. He spent long hours laying in bed; even turning over took minutes of preparation and fight. He only ate when his body threatened to shut down, and he only moved when it was deemed absolutely necessary. His mother tried to get him to speak to her, but to no avail.

Only Charlie could approach him without objects crashing into walls of their own accord. The old man sat down next to Draco and spoke. "Did you know I was married once?" Draco willed himself to shake his head, but nothing happened. "She was the most beautiful woman I had ever seen. We were kids when we got married, but it didn't matter. I knew I wanted to be with her the rest of my life from the moment I met her. We were married almost 35 years before she died. She got sick and never got better." Now Draco felt empty _and_ guilty. "Not a day goes by I don't think of her and miss her. But each day it hurts a little less. And there's hope for you, you're so young. There isn't a doubt in my mind- you and that beautiful girl were destined to meet. But she's in a better place now." Draco had a feeling Charlie wanted to say more, but didn't. He thought of what Charlie had told him, though, and spoke for the first time in a week.

"I'm sorry about your wife, Charlie." He bowed his head in solemn recognition.

"I went into town yesterday and I ran into Nanette's father," Charlie said suddenly. Draco couldn't even fathom the pain Netta's dad must be in. They had been so close. "He wants you to stop by their house before you go back to Hogwarts."

"I don't think I can go back there, Charlie." Draco's tone was so miniscule, Charlie wanted to cry for him.

"You have to. For her."


	23. 23 Painful Memories

A lot of shit has gone down in my life in the last two days. My whole life plan has been rewritten because of one small factor (it's not a baby). But, luckily, I'm a few chapters ahead of you guys, so here's the next chapter only four days later! Thank you guys for your reviews! They are my absolute favorite thing :) Cassie- I wrote that chapter while listening to "Turning Tables" by Adele, and I cried a bit while I wrote it. I'm really glad you like my fic and that chapter :)

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Chapter 23- Painful Memories

"Her mom gave me some of her things- her iPod, a picture of us... Little things."

"And the ring?"

Draco reached into his pocket. "The ring." A small gold band sat neatly on his palm. "I bought it for her for when I went off to school. A reminder that I'm with her always."

"I bet she would want you to know the same thing. She'll always be with you."

Draco's face turned hard. "Doesn't feel like it."

He stood up and paced the room, trying very hard to not get too emotional. Hermione had never been good at consoling people. Her talents were in facts and numbers. People didn't usually work the way she did, so making them feel better was never something she could learn how to do.

"So what is it exactly that you want to do tomorrow?"

Draco stood for a silent moment, thinking. "I don't know, Hermione." He sighed. "Visit her grave? See her parents? I just... need to go."

Hermione nodded, staring at the floor. If that's what he needed to do, then that's what they would do. His story was so unlike the Draco she had known half her life, she almost wanted to see Nanette's house and the town where they met just to prove it was all real. It made sense at least. Hermione had seen the change in him almost immediately. Maybe it was because they were cursed like this or maybe it was because she knew him better than she thought. Either way, she believed him. ''Then we'll go. Tomorrow."

"Thanks," he said.

"And Draco," she called as he began to leave the room. "I would have gone anyways... even if you hadn't won it." He just looked at her then left.

Draco squeezed Hermione's hand to the point of breakage the next day. They, both over 17, apparated close to the Malfoy Manor property line and walked into town. By the time they reached Nanette's front door, Hermione was wincing, but she stayed silent. She would be whatever Draco needed her to be today. And right now, he needed her to be a stress ball.

Draco dropped her hand the moment he heard noise on the other side of the door. Barbara, Nanette's mother, greeted Draco with happy surprise. "Sorry I didn't call. I was in the area and wanted to see how you and Jim were doing," he lied. Barbara beckoned them inside.

"Is this your girlfriend, Draco?" Barbara asked, spotting Hermione.

"We're not together," Draco said, giving Hermione a meaningful look. It stung to hear him say it, but she played along.

"I'm Hermione." Barbara shook her hand.

"Jim's in his study, Draco. I think he'd like to see you." Draco went reluctantly. Barbara led Hermione into the living room for tea. A picture of Nanette with her family hung above the fireplace.

"How do you know Draco?" Barbara asked, tipping the kettle.

"We go to school together," Hermione responded. Barbara stayed silent, but her gaze wandered to her late daughter's face. "I'm so sorry for your loss," Hermione said. "Draco speaks very highly of her. She means so much to him, even now." Barbara smiled sadly.

"We were happy to have him. He brought her back to Earth, I think."

"How so?"

"She was rebellious and insecure. She was so sarcastic, but I always thought she used her humor to hide how sad she really was. She would leave for hours doing god knows what... When Draco was around, she was happier. He's going to make someone else's daughter very happy one day." Hermione felt very uncomfortable.

"She changed him, too, you know," she said. "You wouldn't believe the difference. Draco was once just this rich, bratty kid. He bullied everyone that didn't worship the ground he walked on. The boy you know is the product of a wonderful girl changing his life." She looked into Nanette's mother's face as genuinely as she could, hoping she could convey even a fraction of what her daughter had done. Barbara's smile was warm now.

"Thank you, dear." She paused. "More tea?"

Draco stepped into the den feeling as though he might pass out. He expected rage and possibly violence. Jim looked up from his work and smiled. "Draco! What a surprise! Come in, come in." Draco's tension melted. "How's school? How's your family?" Jim asked.

Draco, still a little confused, murmured, "Fine."

"What's wrong?" Jim asked, concerned.

"I didn't think you'd want to see me," Draco confessed, eyes pasted to the floor. When he finally looked up, Nanette's father looked Draco as though his heart was breaking all over again.

"It's not your fault, Draco. Surely you can't think that."

"I should have seen him coming!" Draco jumped up from his chair he was so angry with himself. "I should have saved her."

"The man was drunk, Draco; he slammed into you. There was no way you could have stopped it. Don't you think I've gone over it every way I can? It was my daughter, my baby girl! And I am telling you that it is not your fault. If it was, don't you think I would have killed you by now?" Draco managed a laugh.

"I'm so sorry," he said, the serious look returning to his face. Jim put his hand on Draco's shoulder with a subtle look of understanding.

Before they left, Draco took a turn around Nanette's old room. He had seen it a lot that past summer. Had it really only been four months? It felt like a lifetime. He ran his fingers over the soft material of her bedspread, breathed in the smell of the room. His eyes fell to a small bottle of perfume on her nightstand. He sprayed a small amount on her pillow and lay there next to it. He closed his eyes and he could see her- flashes of memories with her sped through his mind. He clung to the fabric and started to convulse in heavy sobs. It wasn't fair. She had been the best thing to ever happen to him, and then she was torn away. She didn't deserve it. He prayed that he could take her place.

A knock on the door interrupted him. "Draco?" Hermione's voice came from the other side. "Are you ready to go, or do you need more time?" Draco's headache faded. Funny... he hadn't even noticed it until it was gone.

"Give me a minute," he said. She could tell just from his voice that he had been crying. He wiped roughly at his cheeks and tried to shake out the rest of the grief. When he went downstairs, Barbara and Jim were there to see him off. They embraced briefly and said their sorrowful goodbyes.

The walk back towards Malfoy Manor was silent and tense. Draco walked a few paces in front of Hermione, thinking deeply. "They seemed very nice," Hermione said to break the silence.

Draco said only "Mm" in reply.

"It sounds like you had as much of an impact on her as she did on yo-."

"I think we should break up," Draco interrupted, no emotion in his voice. Hermione couldn't speak, even if she tried. "I promised her forever, and a month later I'm with someone else? No, it's not right. She deserves better than that, better than I've given to her. It's this curse. This wouldn't have happened if we hadn't been cursed."

"Draco, don't say that."

"What, you would have been with me? Hermione Granger with Draco Malfoy? Listen to how that sounds, and tell me that it would have ever happened if we hadn't been put in this situation. Look me in the eye, Granger, and tell me all about it." She looked sternly at him, determined to defend what they had, but couldn't find the words. Her mouth opened, but no sound came out.

"Fine," she finally said. She averted her eyes.

"I'm sorry," he said quietly.

"Don't be," she said. "We should get back." He opened his mouth to try to make her understand, but she had already apparated home.

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As always, Review my lovelies! Not that I don't appreciate those of you who have added me to your Favorites and Alerts. You people are equally awesome. Reviews just remind me that you guys are real people not just robots :p I hope that's not offensive. ANYWAY, love you guys! -Katherine


	24. 24 Punishment

So I guess we're matched with Draco and Hermione now, time-wise. After almost five years, it doesn't really happen often... Thank you all again for your reviews. I know I say the same thing every time, but it really never ceases to be true. Some big changes have been made in my life recently, and not all of them I'm perfectly happy with. It's lovely to know that there's something I still have that's consistent and still brings me joy. Honestly, there will be some rough months ahead, so any reviews are doubley appreciated. I get so excited when I get one of those e-mails, you have no idea. This is one of my favorite chapters, because I got to write some evil and some sarcasm. I'm very pleased with it, and I hope you are too! I'm trying to get on writing again now... I've had some writer's block because of all the stress of moving and holidays. Happy New Year, everyone. I hope you all have a great year ahead of you. And that we don't all die on December 22, that would just suck.

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Hermione and Draco stayed with her family until New Years. She didn't mention the break-up to them; it would only make things more awkward. She was sad, but she couldn't blame him- not really. She had never lost someone close to her, and the evidence of that girl's impact showed in every word he spoke. They never would have been together at all if it wasn't for her. Nor was Hermione the type to beg Draco to be with her. The very thought disgusted her. She had been raised to have more self respect than that.

Still, it was a relief to get back on the train and have the promise of academic distraction to look forward to. Despite her cool exterior, the fact that Hermione wasn't allowed to be alone was finally beginning to take its toll. She would not cry in front of Draco, nor lash out in any other manner. But, man, did she need it. She felt claustrophobic never having a moment to herself. Hermione longed to get away from him any way she could. She spent as much time as her disease allowed away and took naps more often than necessary. Only in sleep could she really escape.

Draco definitely noticed something was wrong with Hermione, but assumed that he was the cause and chose not to ask. Instead, he pretended to read while he watched her sleep and felt content that she was at peace.

He couldn't bring himself to regret his decision to break off their relationship. She deserved better, anyway, especially with all his demons. He began to write a journal where he could be completely honest about the war inside his head. He figured if he let out his thoughts on the pages of a book, he would be less inclined to scream them in a fit of rage.

Harry was more than happy to see Hermione back at school, and even happier to see how silent things had gotten between her and Draco. Their first class was a Gryffindor-Slytherin double block. Draco leaned against the wall, bored, while Hermione detailed to her eager friends all that she had done over break.

Draco's friend Blaise from Slytherin House swaggered up to him with Draco's former bodyguards Crabbe and Goyle. Giving Draco a suspicious look, Blaise asked, "Where did you go for Christmas, Draco?"

Draco looked at him, oozing impatience. "Home, why?"

Blaise's face turned smug. "That's funny... I went to your house the day after Christmas and your parents said you hadn't gone home for the holidays." Draco shifted his weight nervously. "And then I look out the window and what do you think I see? Lo and behold... it's you! But you weren't alone, were you, Draco?"

"Shut it, Blaise."

Blaise smiled. "Let's take a walk, Draco."

"We have class," he objected.

"With Binns," Blaise laughed, starting to go.

"I can't go with you," Draco said firmly. Blaise studied Draco with amusement, then smiled as though he had been wanting to do this for years.

"Don't have much of a choice, do you?" Crabbe and Goyle each put a hand on Draco's shoulders and led him down the hall. He looked around for Hermione frantically, but she took no notice of his kidnapping. When the classroom doors opened moments later, Hermione began to look for her partner. By this time in the school year, she had a feel for exactly how long 6 minutes 12 seconds took to pass, and when she didn't find Draco she realized she had about four minutes to do so.

"Harry, have you seen Draco?" Hermione asked, panic in her voice.

"He left," Harry said simply. A rush flew through Hermione's body.

"Where?" she practically shouted. Harry stammered for a moment, taken aback by Hermione's aggression.

"That way." She bolted. She followed the echoes of footsteps on granite or the tiny glimpse of a cloak on a stairwell far below her. She didn't know what they were going to do, but she had an awful feeling.

Blaise led them into an abandoned classroom down in the dungeons. Crabbe and Goyle took out their wands, and Draco reached for his, but Blaise stopped him. "Don't even think about it, Malfoy." Blaise's wand was pointed at Draco's chest. "You gave up the right to magic when you lost sight of who your friends are." He circled around Draco like a predator.

"Crabbe, Goyle- put your wands away. If he loves Muggles so much, we'll settle this the Muggle way." The two hulks smiled sadistically as they slipped their wands into their pockets. "And Draco," Blaise called, "if you so much as _think_ about defending yourself, magic _will_ be used... but not to your benefit." Draco's mind searched for a plan, but lost hope as his three kidnappers attacked.

When Hermione found him, Blaise, Crabbe, and Goyle were gone. She had heard them laughing at their victory, and from there had finally honed in on Draco.

His face was covered in blood and his nose was suddenly crooked. His mouth was red from coughed up blood, but Hermione was pleased to see that he still had all his teeth. His left eye was swollen shut and his hand was broken- like it had been stepped on.

"Draco?" Hermione pulled him into her arms and tried to stir him. The eye unaffected by bruising fluttered open, and Draco smiled his gory smile.

"Hey, Hermione," he said groggily. "How do you like my new look?"

"Who did this to you?" Her voice was much angrier than he expected.

"Blaise, Crabbe, and Goyle." He tried to push himself up on his injured hand and cried out.

"We need to get you to the hospital wing," she said, helping him up.

"That would be nice," he groaned. She caught him staring at her chest and looked down. "I bled on you. Sorry."

"I think I"ll be fine," she laughed. He had to lean on her to walk. Halfway to the infirmary, she had to ask, "You don't seem that upset." Draco chuckled.

"Honestly, I expected it a lot sooner. Can't be a Malfoy, get caught with Muggle-borns, _and_ not hurt the fancy reputation. It's all we have, and it must be defended." He scoffed. "Even if it means hurting one of our own. Though Blaise seemed to enjoy that far too much."

"You have to tell Dumbledore."

"No-freaking-way."

"You can't exactly stop being around me, Draco. He'll come after you again."

"Then let him." They were outside the infirmary now, and Hermione let the conversation drop.

When they stepped through to the hospital wing, Draco shouted, rolling his eyes, "I got beat up, someone fix me!" and nonchalantly tossed himself on the nearest bed. Madame Pomfrey healed up Draco's worst wounds like it was no problem, but was not entertained by his sarcastic remarks. Hermione was skeptical as well.

"You're handling this well," she said when he saluted the nurse who gave him water.

"Sarcasm and mild annoyance is how I handle anger when I am unable to yell and punch things."

"I think I like this better."

"Well, I don't."

"It does not do well to act out violently, Draco," a soft, elderly voice surprised them.

"Professor Dumbledore," Hermione greeted him.

"How is the patient?" Dumbledore asked cheerfully.

"Peachy," Draco said bitterly. Dumbledore smiled with mild amusement.

"He won't turn in the students who did it," Hermione tattled.

Draco rolled his eyes and barked, "Nor will you, Hermione."

"May I ask why?" Dumbledore asked.

Draco thought for a moment. "If I get them in trouble, they'll only get others to do worse next time. I've faced my punishment; I should be safe for a while."

"And when next time comes?"

"I won't be so unprepared." Dumbledore searched Draco's face a moment. He thought the old headmaster would try to convince him otherwise, but Dumbledore bowed his head in respect for Draco's wishes.

"I cannot force you to give up the names of your attackers. I confess, that isn't even the reason I came." Dumbledore's face grew grim. "We found them."


	25. 25 Shouts at the Snow

Sorry about the delay, guys! Especially with that ending... As I mentioned before the last chapter, a lot of changes happened to my life recently. With that came a lot of writer's block. I honestly hated this chapter and the next one until yesterday when the block finally broke. Now I'm finally pleased with it :) Reviews, Reviews, Reviews are my favorite! Thank you all sooo much as usual and I love you!

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Chapter 25- Shouts at the Snow

Hermione knew from the moment he said it who Dumbledore was talking about. Just to be safe, half hoping, half dreading, she asked, "Found _who_, Professor?"

"Through a scattered paper trail and hospital records, we finally know where the first case couple are." Draco wondered why Dumbledore didn't look happier about this.

"Where are they, Professor?" Dumbledore paused, telling them with a look all they needed to know.

"I am very sorry," he said grimly. "Their bodies are buried in family plots, as per their request." Hermione, who had been pacing, whipped around.

"They're dead?" She practically screamed it. She sat down on Draco's bed in shock. Dumbledore nodded his head in silence. "How?" she asked, much more softly this time.

"You said, 'per their request', right, Professor? They killed themselves." Draco stared at Dumbledore hard.

"Why don't I just explain?" He waved his wand and a file appeared on his palm. It fell open, and he handed Hermione a photograph of what she assumed was the couple who had undergone the same curse she and Draco now faced. "Mr. Vega and Miss Castillo, as I told you, disappeared about a year ago. Through some Muggle credit card receipts, we were able to locate them. Castillo left a letter for her family; Vega did not."

"How did they do it?" Hermione asked bitterly.

"They stepped off a large bridge." The image struck Draco more than he would have liked. The three of them sat in silence for a long moment before anyone spoke again.

"Are we any closer to a cure?" asked Hermione through the shelter of her hands. Dumbledore sighed and looked down, shaking his head. Hermione took a deep breath, willing herself not to explode. Draco instinctively put his hand on her back to comfort her. She shuddered at his touch, getting up off the bed to get away from it. "Don't," she hissed. Draco looked at her apologetically. She looked around and, feeling claustrophobic, fled the room.

The room was tense. Dumbledore handed Draco the file and put a hand on his shoulder. "I'm doing all that I can," he said simply. Draco nodded, wanting to tell him that it wasn't enough, but decided against it. He needed to find Hermione. Madam Pomfrey cleared Draco, telling him to care for his still tender hand, and Dumbledore wished him luck as he sped out into the snow.

The wet snow crunched underneath his feet as he pulled his cloak into his body. The air was crisp and whipped around him. It didn't take him long to find Hermione. She sat on a rock in a clearing behind the castle. It was scarcely visited by their fellow students as it was far out of the way. She sat there, hunched over, crying. He body shook with the release of months of pent-up emotion. She heard Draco's noisy footsteps and gasped, spinning around.

"I was going to come get you," she sniffed, hiding her tears.

"You don't have to pretend. It's okay if you want to cry," he said, trying to be reassuring.

She scoffed. "And what, be the weak little girl who can't herself? I don't need some big tough man to take care of me, believe it or not."

"I never said that," he said, suddenly guarded. "I'm trying to help."

"Well, I don't need your help," she spat much more angrily than she intended. Draco stepped away and Hermione felt guilt wash over her. "I need to vent. I need to feel helpless. But I can't show you that, that's private."

"You might have to get over that for now." Hermione glared at him.

"You're one to talk. You spent months avoiding any sort of anything about Nanette, simmering slowly until you'd explode at me! You have no right telling me how to live my life and handle my emotions."

"And yelling at me is going to help?" he shouted back.

She hesitated. "I do feel a little better, actually."

He sighed. "Yell at me, then." She looked at him, confused. "Go on, I'm sure I can handle it."

"That won't solve anything." He pulled her gently by the arm and spun her around so she faced the empty wasteland that was once the Hogwarts grounds.

"Then just yell," he said in her ear. It sent a shiver of delight down her spine, having him close to her. It angered her. Why did he have such an effect on her, and she was nothing to him? She had to force him into every remotely relationship-like activity they did, and each time she did, she could see he was unhappy. Why was she forced, once again, to do all the work?

She took in a deep breath and let out as loud and strong a yell as she could. She yelled on and on, and when it was out, she started laughing. Draco was smiling with her. "Your turn," she nodded, her voice feeling slightly raw. Draco hesitated, but easily found the motivation for a dramatic shout match with the wind. And it was lucky the wind had joined them, for the sounds would have been heard from the castle if it had not. They screamed at the world there until they were coughing and numb.

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"I'm sorry," Hermione said, offering Draco a cup of hot chocolate.

Draco, who was still shivering, grabbed at the cup. "You're forgiven."

"No, really. I shouldn't have mentioned Nanette earlier, it was a low blow." Draco thought about it for a moment. They looked at each other a while, unsure of what to say. "I don't know how to think towards you anymore." He sipped his cocoa. "For the last six years, you've been a complete ass to me. And now... well you're still an ass, but overall you're completely different."

"How do you think I feel?" Draco's eyes unfocused. "I no longer feel that Muggles or Muggle-borns are inferior to Purebloods. I fell in love with a Muggle and she changed my life in every way I can think of. Who could have seen that coming a year ago?"

"Or us dating, can you imagine knowing that last year?" she marveled at the dramatic change their lives had seen.

"You're taking the split well. I'm almost offended," he laughed.

Hermione winced. "Are we being completely honest?" Draco nodded. "It wasn't much of a relationship. I wasn't even sure if we were together. It was to the mercy of your mood, how it went, and I don't like giving up that control. Relationships are supposed to be equal, and it wasn't."

Draco cast his eyes downward. "I'm sorry I didn't treat you as well as you deserve."

She gave him a half-smile and patted his shoulder. "It's okay. You did the right thing breaking it off. I should have ended it sooner. I guess I was just too stubborn to give up."

"That's fine. You aren't the first woman to lose all logic at the sight of me." He made to brush the dirt off his shoulders and Hermione threw a pillow at him. "I'm kidding," he insisted. "Sort of. We should be friends then... Rather than just two people forced to be around one another. It's really secluded on my part of the ship. I mean I don't have any friends in Slytherin anymore-"

"You can hang out with Harry, Ron and me."

Draco laughed. Hard. "Okay, I'm not _that_ lonely. Besides, in what world is it a good idea to start hanging out with Potter? It's one thing to be around _you_, we're Head Boy and Girl, and everyone knows we're being forced to live together."

"That's true. But yes, of course, let's be friends." She smiled. He was not going to pretend that that smile didn't give him butterflies. He still wanted to kiss her and lavish her with affection. But this was best for them. For now.

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Reviews are forever appreciated! They make me cry sometimes, guys... seriously. Love you all! -Katherine


	26. 26 Out of the Closet

Hello! Yet another chapter, so yet more thanks. Writing has been weird lately, and I've been occupied with getting myself fixed in the mental department, so sorry that updates have been scarce. But updates have always been scarce, so thanks for sticking by me. As always, read and review and much love will be sent your direction.

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It was both lucky and unlucky that Hermione's schedule had been altered for her and Draco's curse. Lucky, because she got much more time than normal to glare at the back of Blaise's head. Unlucky, because the anger he instilled in her was bad for her studies. Draco took his beating like a loyal soldier; almost as if he deserved it. Hermione had a few choice words for Blaise, but knew that she would only be making it worse. Therefore it gave Hermione very mixed feelings to get her opportunity to confront Blaise barely three days later. She was in the potions cabinet gathering ingredients for their day's lesson when he let loose his first cutting remark.

"Enjoying your time in the bed of a real wizard, Mudblood?" he sneered. Hermione tried to take the mature route and ignore him. Digging for a response, Blaise added, "You know no matter how much time you spend with him, the magic of a pureblood won't rub off on you."

"You know, Zabini, you remind me of him... when we first met... when we were ELEVEN."

"If you know what's best for Draco, and you, you'll stay away from him."

"Don't you touch him, you pathetic twat."

"That's what he gets for hanging with Muggle-borns. I'll say it again: stay away from Malfoy."

"I can't," Hermione said, frustrated.

"What do you mean you can't, of co-"

"We're cursed, you idiot!" She wanted to yell it, but they were already taking long enough in the cabinet to attract Snape's attention. "Why do you think we're always together?" she continued in a hoarse whisper. "Do you honestly think Draco Malfoy woke up one day and just decided to make friends? We're bound together; we can't be apart. You take me away, he'll die. We both will."

Blaise didn't respond for a long moment. His eyes turned to scrupulous slits and he said, "You're lying."

"Do I _look_ like I'm lying?" Anger and loathing radiated from the look she gave him, but no doubt from what Blaise could tell. He stayed silent and decided it would be easiest to just leave. Hermione took a deep breath once he was gone. She wondered now if she was going to regret what she had just done.

"What was that about?" Draco asked her the next time they were alone. His tone was firm and suspicious.

Hermione kept her head held high and said, "I told Blaise the truth." Draco's eyes widened.

"You did _what_?"

"He was going to come after you again. I did the right thing."

"He's going to tell my parents! Who _knows_ what they'll do?"

"So what?" It shut Draco up quickly. "You said you wanted independence, well here's your chance! You're an adult, Draco. You don't have to do anything you don't want to. So why are you still afraid of Daddy?" Her tone was sincere and annoyed enough that Draco didn't defend. He would never deny that he had father issues, but everyone who ever met Lucius understood why. He could feel the stress balling up in his stomach. It was a topic he knew he would mull over too often over the next few days.

While Draco didn't expect the entire Death Eater Army to come to Hogwarts, he DID expect a larger reaction to his secret being out. There came no letters from his parents, no whispers through the halls. He was disappointed, and that was the biggest shock. He had been hoping for this to get out so he could stop pretending. He had grown so tired of hiding his sideway glances and coming up with spontaneous lies. So with every day that the communication between he and his family remained silent, his heart sank.

"I think what you told Blaise was a good idea," Draco mentioned randomly the next week. Hermione was poring over the file Dumbledore had given them in between assignments.

"Thanks," she gave him a half smile.

"In fact, I think we should tell everyone." Hermione stopped reading this time.

"What?"

"Think about it. We wouldn't need to pretend to hate each other anymore. We could actually walk together."

"What's stopping you from walking with me now?"

"The curse," he said.

"How does the curse prevent you from walking with me?"

"Well, it..." but he couldn't give her a legitimate reason.

"It's not the curse, it's people. Telling them about it wouldn't change their ideas of who we are and where we belong in the scheme of things."

"Which is where exactly?"

"Apart." Draco felt a sadness at this, but Hermione looked like she never expected anything different.

-  
The next day, Hermione, Ron and Harry were standing and talking outside during break, when Draco walked up to them.

"Hi," he said, as though this was a normal ritual.

Ron and Harry looked at him confused and Hermione, thinking that he was preparing to attack them with fake insults, spat out, "What do you want, Malfoy?"

"Don't do that."

"What, hate the ground you walk on or loathe the sound of your voice?"

"Ha. Good one," he said as though he actually found her insults funny. "But no, don't call me Malfoy. Call me Draco, like you normally do."

Harry interjected bitterly. "So what, you're suddenly nice to us now?"

"I'm always nice to Hermione. I like Hermione. I'm not nice to you two because I don't like you. But the overall concept is correct."

"Draco what if people see?" she asked, starting to push him away.

"So what if they do? They'll talk and gossip and question it, but eventually get bored and move on. Just like you said they would."

"This is a bad idea," she said as their classmates started to stare.

"Imagine how much they would stare if I kissed you right now," he said with a wicked smirk.

"Don't you dare," she said sternly.

"Seriously, please don't," said Ron, looking sick.

"Don't worry, we broke up," Draco said, waving at a few Slytherins giving him strange looks.

"You two DATED?" Ron would have yelled it if Hermione hadn't put her hand over his mouth halfway through.

"Briefly, yes, but now we're just friends."

"I really am gonna be sick," Ron said. Harry was very quiet throughout the conversation, which Hermione didn't mention but noticed. When the break ended, Draco took Hermione by the arm and spun her away from her friends.

"Okay, we gotta go to class now, bye!" he said quickly. "I still don't like them," he murmered to Hermione when they were a safe distance away.

"Well I'm sure they don't like you either," she laughed.

They had never walked side by side like this before. Normally, they kept a safe distance. Everyone knew that they had the same schedule, so no one really questioned why they were always going to the same place. But now they were walking and talking and laughing. Not a single student who saw them didn't stare. Hermione felt very self-conscious and kept looking to the ground. Draco put on a confident exterior, but was hyperaware of his surroundings. Ever since his confrontation with Blaise, he was constantly prepared for another encounter. Hermione thought he felt he deserved his beating because he had betrayed his family; in reality, he accepted it because he had not been ready to defend himself and had therefore lost the fight fair and square.

"How do you think those Slytherin girls over there would react if we high fived all buddy-buddy? Wanna bet on it? I bet I would win." Draco seemed almost jubilant that people were uneasy about his actions.

"Do you want to get attacked again? Is that why you're so keen on flaunting our friendship around?" Her eyes showed the fear her voice failed to convey.

"No, I'm not looking for a fight. I'm just so sick of lying. And you were right."

"Which time? I'm right a lot."

"You were right about the fact that if I want to be independent from my family that I should stop being such a coward about it and face what's coming to me."

"I don't think those were my exact words, but I'm proud of your breakthroughs all the same." She patted him on the shoulder. She asked, "Is that why you're looking for a fight?"

"I'm not looking for a fight." Hermione rolled her eyes dramatically. "I am... more welcome to the opportunity to put my new beliefs into practice," he said slowly, wording his thoughts carefully.

"You are more welcome to the opportunity to get yourself punched in the face." He saw clearly that he could not win with her.

"Are you opposed to this?" He searched her expression.

She didn't respond right away. "I guess it's nice to not have to lie all the time." Draco smiled, and her heart skipped a beat. She was, although reluctant to admit it, happy about Draco's decision to come out of his metaphorical closet. It meant that she could talk to him in the open and would no longer have to take all of his insults, which hurt even though she knew they weren't real. By the end of the day, she was just as happy as he was.

_Hermione and Draco_... Harry had thought long and hard about their relationship before he knew they were together, but that was as a CONCEPT not as actual practice. He had talked to Ron a lot over the holidays about Hermione, and had come to a more peaceful, less violent understanding in his mind.

He knew he would never have her. She thought of him like a brother, which was something she would never get over. And while it saddened him that he would never mean to her what she meant to him, he had been through too much with Hermione to throw their friendship away. It was hurting both of them, his acting so child-like.

So when Hermione confronted him quietly while they ate dinner that evening, Harry knew exactly what to say.

"I'm fine, Hermione. Really. You and I are just friends and it's none of my business who you go out with."

"You seemed uncomfortable earlier."

"I'll get over it." Hermione thought it best to leave it at that and went back to her beef stew.

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R&Review you adorable little scamps! :D xoxo GOSSIP GIRL

Not really, it's Katherine


	27. 27 Suicide

Maybe if I update MY story, all the stories I follow will update too! I'm following the sexiest Dramione fic I have ever read. Seriously. 52 Ways to Please Your Partner. Look it up. Not safe for work. Seriously. But it hasn't been updated in so long! And then I thought of how you must all be feeling (assuming you like my story as much as you all say you do) and I just had to update.

As mentioned in the last update, I've been getting my head fixed (and it is going swimmingly) so I haven't had a lot of time to write. In order to get an internship in my major, you need a 3.5 GPA or higher, so there's a LOT of studying involved as well. So thank you all forever for your patience, and I am really proud of the next two chapters. REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW :)

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Chapter 27: Suicide

Snow blanketed the ground all through January, making Hogwarts look like a winter wonderland. Most of the students spent their afternoons huddled around fires and avoiding the icy air. Hermione spent the entire weekend in her and Draco's common room, poring over the file Dumbledore had given them. Draco, growing more antsy by the moment, finally asked, "So what's the deal with this file?"

"What do you mean?" she replied, not looking up.

"Well, you've had a death grip on it since Dumbledore gave it to us." Hermione looked up, then moved to hand it to him. Draco lifted a hand to decline it. "Summarize it for me."

Hermione sighed and flipped through the pages, though it was useless. She had practically memorized it for all the times she had scanned every line. "What's there to say? They're dead. Witnesses saw Vega and Castillo jumping off a bridge together. They fell over 90 feet, there's no surviving that; they had to have known they were going to die. Castillo's body was found that night. Vega's was never even recovered."

"Did they leave a note or anything?"

"Castillo did. She left one for her family. Here's a copy." She handed him the letter- a piece of parchment with Spanish scrawled across the page. As he looked at the letters, unable to find meaning in any of them, a small translation wrote itself underneath the words.

_To my Mama and Papa- I love you more than I could ever say. I will forever regret that I had to leave you, but it was the only way. Just know that the time I spent with you was the happiest I have ever been, and that I'm free now. God has saved me from my suffering and will reward me in the Kingdom of Heaven. I love you forever._

Something about it made Draco uneasy. He read it over a few times, but couldn't find anything wrong, so he handed the document back to Hermione.

"Cause of death was the fall," she continued. "There's nothing else here that we don't already know." He nodded curtly.

"Why do you think they did it?" he asked quietly. She let her head fall to comfort of the back of the couch. She stretched her limbs and answered.

"Maybe it all became too much. They just had to end it."

"Could spending your life with someone be that horrendous? Worth taking your life over?" he asked her, the volume of his voice elevating. She saw his fear of sharing their fate; he had been trying hard to hide it.

Hermione hesitated. "Yes." Draco recoiled slightly at her reply.

"I don't believe that."

"Day after day, year after year? The same person always there never leaving?"

"At least you'd never get lonely," Draco shrugged. Hermione gave him an indifferent look.

"But you'd never have any freedom," she replied. Draco felt a minute wave of anger flood his system.

"Fine," he spat out. "If we don't find a cure, you can arrange our suicide." He stormed out. As the door slammed, Hermione rubbed her head again.

_I'm an idiot_, she thought and followed him up the stairs. She knocked twice and entered.

"I didn't mean it like that," she said to his back. He was arranging the items on his nightstand for something to do. "I'm not good with people, Draco; it's a wonder Harry and Ron ever became my friends. I'm good with books, but people? I'm logical- sometimes too logical. My feelings take a back seat to what makes sense, and sometimes that makes me insensitive. So I'm sorry."

"It's fine," he replied, his voice still tense. "I just don't like the idea that I make people want to kill themselves."

Hermione sighed. "You don't make me want to kill myself."

He looked at her as though he was trying to sum her up. After a long moment, his shoulders relaxed. "I know."

"I'm sorry if I ever made you feel that way."

"I know."

That night, more nightmares plagued Draco's mind. It was the same dream as the ones he and Hermione had had in the past, only now he head Spanish amongst the noise blaring from nowhere. His mind didn't translate the words, but it was a woman's voice, and she sounded scared. She screamed, and he heard Hermione and Nanette scream with her. The sound caused pricks of pain all over his body, and he couldn't press his hands to his ears hard enough to keep them from ringing.

Image after image manifested itself on the screen. He saw mangled bodies and blood-soaked clothes of people he didn't recognize and people he did. The words streamed together into an mass of noise impossible to interpret, and Draco started to scream just to distract from the pain he felt on every inch of his skin. He felt warm blood run down his arms as his ears bled from the pressure. _Help me_, he thought over and over. _Help me, please, I don't want to die._ His body slumped as his muscles could no longer contract. The pain paralyzed him, and he no longer could resist the waves of throbbing ache that weighed him down, though his mind screamed louder than ever.

Suddenly he felt something warm on his arm. He was being lifted and the volume was lowered. He closed his eyes. When he opened them, he saw Hermione's face. She had pulled his sheets away and had her hand on his arm the way he had felt it in the dream. "Draco, can you hear me?" she asked for the second time, but this time he heard it. He felt the side of his face for rivers of blood, but found nothing but sweat. He suddenly noticed how hard he was breathing. "Same dream again?" Hermione asked. Draco wiped his forehead and nodded. She gave him an understanding look and go up to get him a cool washcloth.

The fabric gave him chills when it touched his skin. Draco held his head, which was throbbing despite having Hermione in his sight, as Hermione dabbed his neck. His breathing slowed. "That feels fantastic," he said, his hands hiding in his eyes. She look advantage of his loss of sight and stared freely at his shirtless body. She ran the washcloth down his chest and stomach slowly and felt the ridges of his muscles when he breathed. February was on the horizon, and with that came Valentine's Day. Hermione hadn't realized how lonely she felt until that moment when all she wanted to do was wrap her arms around Draco and feel his body against hers.

"Enjoying yourself?" Draco asked. Hermione had zoned out staring at his chest but had not stopped wiping him down. She blushed.

"Sorry, I spaced out there for a second," she said quickly.

"What were you thinking about?" It was an innocent question, with a not-so-innocent answer. Images of skin against skin raced through her mind and she felt a familiar longing deep in her stomach. Draco watched her eyes glaze over again, and then- what was that? A flash of... _lust?_ Unsure how to react, he touched her leg to awaken her. She looked startled and got up quickly.

"Nothing, it was nothing. I'll see you in the morning." She said it fast, rushing over to her bed and ducking beneath the covers. Draco lay in his bed, furrowed brow, disappointed in her sudden absence. He thought about asking her to come back over and sleep next to him that night, but the timing seemed off. He wished it wasn't, though. He slept best when she was near.

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REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW (is there an echo in here?) -Katherine


	28. 28 I Hate February

Another short update! The more reviews I get the faster I update, that's my new saying! It's not that I'm trying to get a lot of reviews or anything, it's just that I love hearing from you all so much, I'm willing to bribe you for it. this update is short but, I hope, good. I have the next two chapters written already, and those are a little more sweet for you all who wanted more romance. Just remember, everything in Harry Potter is sorted out in June! So savor the suspense while you can, because it's already February! I love you, I love you, I love you all more than anything.

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Draco Malfoy was a tall, lean young man with blonde hair that had darkened over his 18 years. He was decently muscular from his extensive Quidditch play since his second year at school, though he still remained on the thin side. He was clever, though he didn't like to try very hard. His upbringing in the mansion of his youth taught him never to want- an unfortunate attitude as the world outside his own thought very little of him. His father was influential in politics and society, but that was almost entirely due to the large fortune that had been passed down and added to generation after generation. The name Malfoy meant something to people... it just wasn't the same message to everyone.

The Minister for Magic was easily persuaded by his father's wishes. All Lucius Malfoy ever did was remind the Minister of his duty to those wizard families that had the most influence on society. Fudge's eyes would light up as galleons floated through his mind. It wasn't really Fudge's fault... he was a sweet man who genuinely thought he was doing what he did for the good of the country.

The Malfoy family's politics were a bit notorious in the United Kingdom. The wizarding population was small and tight-knit, and the rise of Lord Voldemort almost twenty years ago tore their entire world apart. The UK was the center of chaos, and wizards were forced to choose one side or the other. As the Malfoy family was ancient and wealthy, their views were somewhat skewed against those different from them. His father saw an opportunity to increase his social influence. Lucius saw Lord Voldemort as the happy future. But since Voldemort's fall, the Malfoy family had to fight off nasty accusations, which were of course all true. But as they had a certain level of business to maintain, the Malfoys lied.

These were all true, unbiased facts. It was because of these facts that Draco had grown up spoiled, ignorant, and selfish. Recent events had changed him completely, however. While he still struggled with figuring out who he truly was, it no longer bordered on Identity Crisis. He was thankful for that.

Hermione Granger's mind was slightly more complicated. While she seemed opinionated, most of her thoughts were kept to herself, on lock. A childhood filled with bullies taught her early on that people are typically unaccepting of the unknown and unfamiliar. She was not offended by this idea; logically, it made sense when you consider that mankind used to be killed by what they didn't understand. It was instinct by now. It was evolution.

It was because she understood things this way that she was dubbed different in the first place. She loved to learn, and she was good at it. The other kids just didn't understand it, and grew to hate the way she threw her intelligence in their face. Finally, one day a letter came with the promise of children just like her. She read all she could to prepare, dreaming longingly of the day she would no longer stick out. Imagine her disappointment when she found out that wizard children were no different from Muggle children, except for the subjects they studied.

Her dream of friends began to fade, and she focused on her new studies. She had grown accustomed to her new life until she caught a red-headed boy making fun of the way she had corrected him in class. _It's not that I'm misunderstood,_ she had thought running, blind through her tears. _They understand me perfectly- I'm just a freak!_ She allowed herself to cry with the promise that starting the next day, she would go out into the world again and simply not need friends anymore. She had done well her whole life without them, and (according to her calculation) all she had to do was repeat the process about seven more times, if she was lucky enough to live that long.

Then something amazing happened. She got friends. They weren't the brightest, and they _were_ boys (who would have thought!), but they were hers. And they were good. And they were noble. They had saved her more times than she could count, and she would lay her life down for them in a heartbeat. But every now and then, she would feel unwanted and bothersome and she would retreat into herself. Part of her was grateful to this curse with Draco so that she could spend some time apart from Harry and Ron. Absence makes the heart grow fonder, after all.

Hermione was surprised how easily she had grown to trust Draco. It fascinated her- she knew how little she trusted people in general. _The curse_, she concluded, passively contemplating the situation. She missed him when he was not there, even for a few minutes. Catching his eye in class gave her a sense of relief, which she assumed was an automatic reaction at this point- relief that they've avoided death once again. She was annoyed with herself recently for how attached she was to him. Of course, even that had its limits. She had only truly trusted one person in her life, and that had blown up spectacularly in her face. She combed her hair back with her fingers, willing herself to not think about that.

She left class with nerves playing in her stomach and eyes following her out the door. It had been two weeks since she and Draco decided to stop hiding their friendship. Rumors started and all died out within that time, as Hermione had assumed, though it had been difficult to keep quiet. One of the rules to putting their lives on display was that they weren't to talk about what the real story was- Hermione had insisted upon that. However, this meant she had to stay silent as her fellow students came up with every explanation possible as to why the Prince of Darkness and Miss Valedictorian were suddenly in cohorts. She heard everything from being cursed to be together (luckily the details were so off there was no way that the real story had leaked) to a passionate love affair. Some students actually thought she and Draco were working for the Ministry to unite Pure-Bloods and Muggle-Borns. Overall, Hermione couldn't roll her eyes enough to compensate for how she felt.

It didn't help that Draco was constantly tensed up, ready to pounce on anyone who seemed threatening. It was becoming rather annoying, actually, him reeking of testosterone at every moment. He brought it on himself, though, by being around her, so she ignored it most of the time. The other part of the time, however, he screamed in the night. The stress of being on constant red alert plagued his dreams and woke Hermione three times a week. Twice she had fallen asleep next to him. She woke up, embarrassed and apologetic, quick to return to her own bed, but sorry to do so.

Why was her and Draco's relationship so complicated? Hermione was proud and secretive, Draco was damaged and unattached. Together, they made for a very dynamic friendship, and a hopelessly chaotic romance. Temptation tugged at their heartstrings the closer they got to Valentine's Day. The student body had gotten significantly more flirty and Hermione was staying as stubbornly level-headed as ever. When Ron detailed his dream celebrity valentine's dates, Hermione's eyes actually began to hurt from rolling them so often.

"What's with you?" Harry asked after she openly scoffed at his plan for him and Ginny. Ginny had helped Harry work through his Hermione problems over winter break, and they had grown close. Sure, he had to prove to her that she wasn't just his rebound by over a month of courtship, but her adventurous outlook and sly smirk made it worth it.

Hermione sighed and looked up from her book. "Valentine's Day is so stupid," she said simply. "It's just a made-up holiday to put pressure on the general population to mate. It's all marketing so the media can play on..." she trailed off into a long-running rant that Harry and Ron immediately regretted starting. When she was finally done, she let out an angry "Ugh" and shut her book violently.

Ron and Harry stared at her for a while, not wanting to say the wrong thing to start her up again. "I know why you're mad," Ron said finally. Hermione looked at him suspiciously. "You don't have a date for Valentine's Day." His face was too smug for her liking.

"I don't need a date," she said stiffly.

"What about you and Malfoy? You can revisit your troubled past," Harry added in a dark dramatic tone. Hermione searched his face for any sign of being upset. "I'm okay, Hermione, you're great but I'm over you." Hermione felt relieved. Then she went stern.

"No on Malfoy. He and I aren't compatible; we have... conflicting issues," she said, mostly to convince them but partly to convince herself. The image of Draco kissing her, arms wrapped around her, flashed through her mind. She shook it off.

_I hate February._

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Hope you enjoyed! Also: I have a really hot sex scene I want to put in at some point (I'm not telling who its between!) and I want your input about what you think about sex scenes. The more the merrier? Or, ruins the plot with smut? Let me know!


	29. 29 Valentine's Day

Bribing readers for reviews isn't right. I repent. In other news, my chapters are short now. Long chapters are too mainstream. But I love love love you! Yes you. Seriously. You. Feel free to show your love back in any way you choose (silence, awkward hugging, consumption of tuna, reviewing, interior decorating, whatever you want). I'm not picky. I see the traffic stats, and the fact that you're reading this is more than enough for me :]

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Chapter 29- Valentine's Day 

By noon, February 14th, Hermione guesstimated that she had already eaten half her body weight in chocolate. Despite the heavy, tired feeling this gave her, she decided that she didn't care in the slightest. It was International Bitter Single Person Day in her mind, and she was holding a one-man protest in its honor. Her hair was tied up in a messy bun, makeup was absent from her face. Draco asked her repeatedly how she was doing, which she was getting tired of talking about. She popped a chocolate in her mouth every time she heard a singing valentine or saw a flower bouquet or heard somebody acting idiotically. Thus- 65 pounds of chocolate eaten by lunch.

Draco took Valentine's Day much better than Hermione did. He had gotten more invitations out than he told Hermione about, but that happened every year. This year, he had turned down them all. The one person he wanted to be with on Valentine's Day died 6 months ago, and he felt he deserved to be alone.

"Is _this_ your valentine, Draco?" a nasally, high-pitched voice whined. Hermione and Draco turned around to see Pansy Parkinson and two other Slytherin girls looking at them as though they had just smelled something bitter. Pansy looked Hermione up and down then turned and smiled at Draco. "You could do better," she smiled, pushing her chest out. Despite the hostile way Pansy and her girls looked at her, Hermione burst out laughing.

"Oh, wow, I'm sorry," she said. "I just..." and she started laughing even harder, walking away. Pansy clearly was not happy with being laughed at, and left in a hurry. When Draco re-approached Hermione, confused, she was still giggling. "Sorry, that was just so _pathetic_," she said. "This holiday just makes people desperate."

"You don't want a Valentine?" he asked. Hermione shook her head.

"Don't need one. I've got Mr. Cadbury here," she replied, holding up her bag of chocolate. "And I'm meeting my friends Ben and Jerry later."

"Who are Ben and Jerry?" Draco asked.

"It's a Muggle joke, nevermind."

The moment classes were over, Hermione raced upstairs and changed into her most comfortable sweats. She was determined that if today was going to happen, she was going to enjoy herself as much as possible. She curled up in front of the fire with one of her favorite books; the binding was worn and coming apart from use. Draco stood in the common room and looked down at her. "So, we're staying in tonight then?" he asked.

"Oh..." She shifted weight awkwardly. "I didn't think you'd want to do anything today... considering."

Draco shrugged, hands stuffed into his pockets. Of course he had thought of Netta today. He thought of Netta every day. He had prepared himself for this day for a while, fully expecting to see strings of couples lining the halls. He thought each kiss, each longing look, would break a little piece of him off the inside. But mainly, he just felt bored with it all. Numb to the thought of spending all that time gazing into each other's eyes and feeling invincible. It had been so long since he felt like that, he had started to forget what it was like. And he was done with trying to remember. All that was left was guilt and anger. He thought of Charlie, a product of a much more extreme loss, and tried to push those feelings away. If Charlie could carry on day to day, so could he.

"I don't care what we do," he said stiffly. Hermione shifted but didn't say anything.

A few hours later, Hermione had fallen asleep in front of the fire. Draco was drifting in and out of consciousness studying his potions textbook. A light groan from the female side of the room woke Draco only for a brief moment before he plunged into dreamless sleep again.

Hermione wished she could be so lucky.

Perhaps it was the chocolate. Perhaps it was the holiday. For whatever reason, Hermione's forehead gleamed with sweat as the sprinted through her dreams. This wasn't her normal nightmare. No blank screen, no deafening screams, no signs of terror anywhere. This was worse.

She was laying next to someone, but she could not recognize his face. She burrowed herself into his body, feeling happy and at peace. The next thing she knew, she was outside in a field, screaming at the top of her lungs at the shadowed figure she had just been so affectionate toward. There was no sound, but she felt the strain on her voice and her eyes stung with tears. The figure just stood, back to her, utterly unaffected. Then she was under water, kicking and flailing for the surface, but could only watch it inch away. She panicked, knowing that she couldn't breathe, and that she would die like this, alone and wet and cold. A face appeared at the surface, staring down at her, emotionless. The man took a long drag on a cigarette, gave a wry smile and blew the smoke toward her drowning in the water. With the last bit of air contained in her lungs, she screamed with every bit of anger and hurt she felt, staring into his dark, cold eyes. As she felt the darkness take hold of her and the water pulled her further into the deep, the last word on her mind was his name.

_Ethan._

By now, Draco had become very familiar with the sounds of Hermione's screams. She and Draco each had the same nightmare night after night, and no longer even spoke about what might be causing it or new developments in the dream's plot. This is why it took Draco off guard to hear "Ethan" moaned tragically in her sleep. By the time he had gotten up and walked across the room to her side, she was screaming it, over and over.

When her eyes opened, she gasped for air, thinking she was still under water. The pain in her throat had subsided and she was hot, too hot, by the fire. Hermione tore off her sweater, still feeling like she couldn't breathe and wiped hysterically at the sweat on her neck. It was constricting around her neck- was that even possible?- and she needed oxygen. She walked across the room and quickly threw open the window, breathing in the crisp February air. Draco watched her hang her head outside the frame, beads of sweat falling down her bare back. "You okay?" he asked, inching closer to her. She nodded, and her breathing finally slowed.

"That wasn't the normal nightmare, was it?" Hermione just shook her head. Draco got her a towel.

"I must smell awful," she said, wiping down her torso. She stood by the window in only sweat pants and a bra, but neither of them cared much anymore. From the near constant nightmares, each of them had woken each other up in less than that before. Draco had begun to make fun of Hermione for her choice in all-too-innocent underwear.

"Who's Ethan?" Draco finally asked, though it had been the very first question on his mind.

Hermione's stomach dropped. So he had heard. She closed her eyes and felt the cold breeze lap at her face. "You met him. At the Christmas party, remember?"

"I don't think I liked him."

"That is an appropriate feeling to be had about Ethan. It's certainly one I share," she said with loathing. Draco handed her back her sweater when he saw her shiver, but she denied it with a wave of her hand. "It's all sweaty now." She went and slumped down on the couch, more exhausted now than before she fell asleep. Draco sat down next to her.

"You were nice to him at the party." He pulled his cloak off the back of the couch and tucked it around her. It was just loose enough that she didn't feel trapped inside of it. She leaned her head back against couch.

"I'm not going to be petty, Draco, you know I'm not like that."

"You're too nice," he said.

"I don't care enough to be anything of the sort."

Draco chuckled and put up his hands in surrender; she clearly cared more than she let on. Hermione let escape a violent shiver and he draped his arm around her shoulders.

"You seem feverish."

Hermione shook her head and closed her eyes. "I'll be fine, just let me lay here a minute." And she leaned her head into his shoulder. He smelled good. They lay there on the couch for a few minutes, breath synchronizing.

"Are you lonely?" Hermione asked quietly.

Draco didn't speak for a while. She thought he might be asleep when he answered, "Yeah."

She closed her eyes again, willing the day to be done. "Me too."

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I love love love you. -Katherine


	30. 30 Sleep

Hello my lovelies! We've hit the 30 mark. As always, Read, Review, Stay in School, Smoke Weed Erryday, etc... Just wanna say that finals are almost here! But that means that summer's coming so there will be plenty of time for writing :)

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Chapter 30: Sleep

When Draco woke the next day, his arm was draped around Hermione's waist, her head resting on the pillow next to his. He didn't know how she had gotten there, but he did know that he felt more rested now than he had in a while. Instead of pushing away from her as he had done so many times in the past, he pulled her in and hugged her tightly.

Hermione coughed dramatically. "Please don't cut off my air supply."

Draco chuckled. "So who asked who into this situation last night?"

"Who asked whom," she corrected. "You kept saying my name in your sleep. When I came over to shut you up, you pulled me into bed."

"Ah," he said. "No nightmares, though. You?"

Hermione shook her head. "None." She turned to face him. "We should maybe think about making this a more permanent arrangement."

Draco hoped to God he didn't blush. The thought of being in bed with Hermione every night brought up all sorts of thoughts. "Yeah, maybe," he replied, trying to play cool. "If you tell me about Ethan."

Hermione turned onto her back and sighed. "Do I have to?" She looked suddenly very uncomfortable.

Draco's eyes were gentle and encouraging. "I told you about Nanette." He had a very good point. Hermione sighed again and told her story to a strand of hair she twiddled between her fingers. She couldn't look Draco in the eye.

"There isn't much to tell," she began. "Ethan was perfect and everybody loved him. He was smart and beautiful. We dated, we broke up. End of story." She crossed her arms, but still didn't look at Draco directly.

"Bullshit." His gaze was unwavering. Hermione finally looked up at him; tears welled up in her eyes and she wiped them away hurriedly, refusing to look weak.

"We started dating a couple of weeks after I got back for summer. He was perfect. I'd never been treated like that before... like I was interesting and beautiful and wanted. I'm not surprised I fell so hard. And I fell hard. So hard I ignored my instincts.

"My friends warned me about him. They told me stories and that they had seen him around with different girls. I thought they were lying, maybe. Or jealous. I slept with him, though, in case that was it. In case I just hadn't given him enough. The moment it was over, I knew. We lay there and I asked him how many other girls there were." Hermione could see in her mind's eye the look of amusement on his face as he took a drag on his cigarette. "He said, 'I've lost count' and I left."

Draco didn't move or say anything. He didn't know what to say. How many times had she looked at him and seen Ethan? Before this curse, she probably couldn't spot a difference between them. This was how he used to look to the world. The thought disgusted him.

"Serves me right," Hermione mumbled, startling him. Her eyes could have bore holes in the ceiling.

"It's not your fault he's an ass hole," Draco replied.

"No, but it is my fault for thinking he would be any different; for not heading my friends' warnings. I ran against every logical bone in my body telling me that he was no good, that _people_ are no good. People have been bullying me my whole life. Even my friends tease me and under-appreciate me. For once, I thought I was being respected; cherished, even." She scoffed. "Obviously not."

"I respect you," he tried. Hermione sat up and pulled herself out of bed.

"Don't patronize me, Draco." And she locked herself in the bathroom. He felt bad now. Not that he asked her to open up, but that he hadn't asked her sooner. Her passive anger reminded him of himself when Nanette died. Nothing anyone said made the slightest dent in how he felt. He was stubborn in that, and only Charlie had broken the wall.

"Well, now I know you better," he said through the door. "I'm sorry he was such a tool. I should have punched him when I had the chance." He heard her laugh a little through the door. "Come on, open the door." He heard a small _click_ and opened it. Hermione sat, legs stretched across the base of the tub, eyes red and puffy. "Don't cry," he pleaded, climbing in with her. He hated when girls cried. He felt like a jerk whether he was the cause or not.

"I know, I know," she said, wiping at her tears almost violently. "I hate crying, I feel like such a weak little thing."

"I have never known you to be weak." Draco leaned across the tub and wiped some stray makeup away. "If anything you have been obnoxiously strong-willed." She laughed again. Another victory. "Do you want to punch me? Hitting things always makes me feel better," he suggested. "Just not the face, please."

A smile. Good. He was getting somewhere. "I don't want to hit you," she said, voice cracking. "You're one of the only friends I have."

"You're the _only_ one I have." Hermione and Draco looked at each other with pity. "Except Charlie," he added.

"Girls don't work like that, anyway," she said to keep from talking about sad things. "Not most of them, anyway. Not me. I wallow in my own self-pity sometimes. Or I cry and get it all out."

"Or scream at nothing in the middle of a snow storm."

"I almost forgot about that." They were quiet for a while.

"I like not having nightmares," Draco said out of the blue.

"Your bed is too small," she replied. Draco shrugged.

"We could push ours together," he suggested. He avoided eye contact. He didn't want her to know how much he wanted to sleep next to her every night.

"Okay," said Hermione simply. She didn't want him to know, either. An awkward silence hung in the air.

"So I guess we should get ready for class-"

"Yeah, sounds good." They hopped out of the tub went about their business, suppressing smiles and losing themselves in the many thoughts of what might happen that night.

_This shouldn't be weird._

That was the first and only thought in both Draco and Hermione's heads as they neared the end of the day. They had slept next to each other countless times, wrapped up in one another. Anything that would happen tonight would have happened before. So what was so strange?

The only thing Hermione could think of that could be the source of their anxiety was the fact that they had never intended it to happen. Each night spent in each other's company had been a favor, one to the other. But now they had admitted mutual benefits. They would have to climb in to bed and try to drift off with the other one right there next to them. No longer was comfort an excuse to hug and hold.

When they lifted back the comforter that night, each wizard tried desperately to gauge the other's thoughts. Draco glanced at her face any chance he got, and she at his. They lay there under the covers, abnormally still for what seemed like hours. Hermione was hot and uncomfortable in the flannel pajamas she never wore. She felt awkward enough without entering nudity into the mix. Draco tugged at the collar of his T-shirt. He never wore shirts to bed; they made him feel like he was being choked.

After an hour, Draco gave up. "You asleep?" he asked into the darkness.

"Nope," Hermione replied. "Why is this weird?"

"I don't know, but I'm glad you agree it is."

"You could cut the tension with a butter knife." She turned towards him. She could just make out his silhouette. "This is a very intimate situation," she said seriously.

"We've slept together before," he countered.

"I know," she said. "Maybe we just need to ease the tension. Harry and Ginny are dating, what do you want to be when you grow up?" she suggested quickly.

"Would it be weird to take my shirt off?"

"Only if it's weird for me to take my pants off."

"Deal." There was a scuffle of sheets and suddenly they were both just in their underwear. "This isn't weird, right?"

Hermione sighed and pulled her hair up in a loose bun. "No, no, I couldn't breathe with that on. There's just too much heat sleeping next to someone."

"I can go if you want," Draco started to pull away.

"No!" She grabbed his arm before he could step on the floor. He scooted back in to bed. She didn't let go of his arm; she entwined hers with his instead. Hermione was glad it was dark; her face flushed with embarrassment. When she spoke again, her voice was so small she sounded miles away. "I like when you hold me."

Draco's stomach flipped. She didn't want to say anymore, and was relieved when she felt his arms envelope her and pull her close to him. They were both hyper-aware of their surroundings, awake and alert for the first time in this position. For example, Hermione had never noticed in her nights of hazy exhaustion how close her lips were to his chest. Just once, pretending to find a more comfortable place to rest her head, she ran her lips softly across his skin. The sensation sent shivers through her. The scent that radiated from him was intoxicating, and she found herself taking deeper and deeper breaths to absorb it all.

Draco didn't purposely place his hand on Hermione's back directly where her bra strap lay. But when she breathed, chest expanding, he found his fingertips ran back and forth over skin and strap. It reminded him exactly how bare they both were, and how he wouldn't mind if they wore even less. The subtle hint of her nudity was so mesmerizing, so sexy, he almost couldn't bare it. It was the kind of sexiness that just came about naturally. When a person had no idea they were doing it.

Neither of them had nightmares that night. But they certainly weren't going to tell each other what they did dream about, either.

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Sexytiiiime. Stay tuned for serious epic shit going down. And some hanky-panky. -Katherine


	31. 31 Hot & Cold

Heyooo! I'm in the middle of finals and I've started a new fic (The Avengers themed, centered around Loki and an OC who is totally awesome and badass) so I thought you all deserved an update! Can't let my most favoritest people go without for too long. As always, read and review! Someone reviewed (I know who you are, I just don't want to post your username in case you wouldn't want me to) and said that they didn't know who Charlie was, which was SO HELPFUL. Seriously, if there's a disconnect or something that makes no sense, let me know and I can address it so there's no more confusion. :) Love you guys, and happy Summer!

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Snow mixed with rain in a messy downpour of early March. Draco and Hermione were in the library once again, catching up on the studying they had ignored when their nightmares had made them lazy and unable to work. Fully rested for the first time in months, Hermione poured over her books, scribbling manically on a piece of parchment.

Draco had already finished his work, and was taking a break before reviewing for an upcoming exam. He was writing a letter to Charlie, the family driver and his only friend; this letter was the second in a week. "How is Charlie doing?" Hermione asked, not looking up from her notes.

"Alright, I think. He hasn't responded to my last letter, yet." He hoped the Malfoys weren't treating him badly, or making him work to hard. Charlie was 82 years old, and although he was fit for his age, Draco knew first hand the extent of Malfoy cruelty. How nothing mattered but those who were good enough. And how no one was good enough except those powerful enough to bring the Malfoys down. Keep your enemies close, right?

He scribbled little updates, and a warning to Charlie about working too hard. "Tell me if my parents are working you too hard," he wrote. "I know how stubborn you are about your age, but I'm telling you you need to take it easy. You aren't as young as you once were, and if you hurt yourself I won't forgive you." Draco looked at the page, then wrote one more line. "You're all the family I've got, old man."

Something touching his arm forced his gaze up. Hermione was trying to get his attention. "How long was your essay for History of Magic?" she asked.

Draco chuckled. "Half as long as yours, I expect." Hermione frowned.

"I've been here for seven years and I still don't know how long to make these things," she admitted, utterly defeated.

"You know, they tell you in class how long they want it."

Hermione stuck her tongue out at him. "I just don't understand how everyone can make theirs so short, there's just so much to talk about!" Draco rolled his eyes at her, but smirked.

"You're such a know-it-all," he teased. "I'm sure Binns won't mind that you exceeded the requirement once again. And I'm very familiar with 'double the required length' if you know what I mean."

Hermione gave a blank stare. "... No..." Draco laughed.

"Think about it."

It took her about twenty seconds. Her face turned vermilion when she understood. "Oh, that's disgusting," she whined, hitting him in the shoulder. "I don't want to know about all that."

Draco caught her eye. "Oh, don't you?" he smirked. Hermione's face flushed again, and she quickly looked down at her papers. The line between friends and more had skewed greatly since their sleeping arrangement began. It was almost torture to them both, being so close every night but never being able to act on instinct. Too often Hermione had ran her hand down Draco's chest while he was sleeping, and Draco had felt the curve of her hip while she dreamed. He was lonely, and felt closer to Hermione now than they ever were before. He knew how she slept, and how much she spoke in a typical day, and what it meant when that quota wasn't met. He knew each kind of sadness she felt, and what each of her laughs meant. He knew her. It terrified him to think that she may know him like that as well.

She tucked her hair behind her ear, exposing a part of her neck Draco had grown familiar with when they were dating. He thought of kissing it, or just touching it, and he felt sad. Without thinking, he reached out and put his hand over hers. Hermione stopped writing. She looked at their hands, then at Draco, and slowly pulled her hand away to flip a page. She said, "Maybe he's just busy."

"What?" asked Draco, having no idea what she was talking about.

"Charlie," Hermione replied. "Maybe he hasn't written because he's busy."

Draco paused, thinking. "Yeah... maybe." She didn't return her hand to his. He didn't know what it meant, if it meant anything.

He felt like he was in some kind of horrible limbo, stuck between two realities. There was Netta's reality, slowly slipping away, on one side. He didn't want it to go away. It's departure also meant the departure of the pain and anger, but he was afraid to let go of those things. Those things kept her real in his mind. How was forgetting her doing any honor for her memory? But on the other side was Hermione. She encompassed everything his family was against. A Muggle-Born, smarter than their son, head strong and proud against their ways. He couldn't (and wouldn't) attempt to deny that that was part of the appeal. But she was also kind, and damaged, but that made her human. She had always seemed so perfect growing up. Gryffindor, in Harry Potter's gang, top student... it had almost made him sick. But she was logical, and perplexed by human emotions, and that made her intriguing. And the things she did with that mouth...

Draco had to snap out of that thought as they got out of their seats and headed back to their room. He watched her walk in front of him, handling awkwardly the large stack of schoolwork in one arm. He really couldn't place a finger on why he liked her. She didn't bore him, that was for sure. And she was challenging. Was that a good thing? He stopped wondering when she moved her hair to the side and he found himself confronted by her exposed skin. Her button-up shirt had fallen to one side as she hoisted her bag and books. The fabric had moved just enough for him to catch a glimpse of her neck and the top of her shoulder. She had no clue that her top had even moved like that, let alone that it was driving Draco wild.

"Hermione," he said suddenly. She turned to him and he realized he didn't know what he had planned on saying. "Come here for a second." He guided them down a side corridor that was even less crowded than the near-empty hallway.

"What is it Dr-?" she began. His lips stopped her short and all her coursework fell to the floor.

They hadn't kissed in two months; they didn't realize how much they had missed it. Draco had her face between his hands, his fingers wrapped in her hair. All the sexual tension that had built between them night after night was felt even more in that kiss. Hermione told her body to breathe, but it just didn't listen. She could hear her heart beat in her entire body, and the oxygen was quickly pumped out of her bloodstream. She tasted sweet. Like how a French pastry has just the faint hint of sugar at the end of every bite. Her hands rested on his arms, and it took about ten seconds for her to realize what was happening.

"No!" She pushed away from him, finally pulling air into her lungs. The two breathed heavily for a moment before Hermione bent down to pick up her jumbled papers.

"I'm sorry, I..." Draco stammered. "I thought you..."

"Thought I what? Would be there to play with whenever you wanted?" she said angrily.

Draco's eyes narrowed. "That's not what I meant."

"You can't toy with me like this!" she cried. She looked around, hoping she didn't catch anyone's attention. There was no one in sight. In a lowered voice, she continued. "You can't play hot and cold with me. You're with me, but you're not. You want me, but you can't. And you kiss me in the middle of nowhere just when things are starting to get manageable? What do you think that's doing to me, Draco?" She sounded less angry now. Draco's face fell.

"I... I don't know. I just-"

"No. You just nothing. I'm not some toy your parents gave you to play with. The moment you don't have me, you want me again. When you get me back, you ignore me. It's not fair to me. I deserve better than that." She snatched the rest of her work out of his hands and stormed off.

Draco was grateful the walk back to his and Hermione's room was a short one. He didn't have to catch up to Hermione to avoid the headaches of their separation. What was he doing? To himself and to Hermione? He stopped a moment to bang his head against the stone wall. It didn't make him feel better, or help sort the jumbled thoughts scattered in his head. He had planned a sort of wayward apology to Hermione by the time he had gotten back to their common room. It involved a lot of "I'm sorry" and "I'm stupid" and "you're right", so hopefully that would get him somewhere. He couldn't help but think that for a girl with so little confidence, she had a pretty strong sense of self. It was surprising, but in a good way. It would keep him in line.

When the portrait swung open, Draco opened his mouth to begin a long stream of compliments toward his female companion. But the look on her face made him stop short. He wondered if he had done something to further insult her, but her face didn't match the situation. She was sad, too sad, and shocked. She started to speak, but it appeared she didn't know what to say. Instead she lifted a piece of paper out towards him.

"I-it didn't have an envelope. I couldn't help but read it." He took it from her, confused. "I'm so sorry."

_Draco,_

_Come home immediately. The driver has died and left some things for you. I presume school is going well._

_Your father, Lucius Malfoy_

Charlie is dead.


	32. 32 Grab Her

To the anon who called me "lazy" for the way I wrote Charlie: Charlie was mentioned first in Chapter 1; killing him in Chapter 31 is hardly introducing him and killing him within a chapter. I understand the origin of your critique, and I thank you for it. However (misspelled words aside) the manner of your review was incredibly rude. I have received reviews telling me that some of you (the readers) had forgotten who Charlie was by the time he was brought up again, and this is something that I will definitely rewrite once the whole story is complete. But I don't think it is fair or correct to call me "lazy" for writing a 90+ page story over the course of five years. If you insist on being rude, I ask you to not review again. But, so you know, (and in case you did not mean to be rude) I did get your message of the problems with Charlie's character. And I am taking this into account, and again thank you for your input.

Misunderstandings aside, here finally is chapter 32. I had problems with 32-34 that I have finally resolved, so I feel okay posting. As always, read and review! (I'm sorry if fighting the review above made any of you uncomfortable about reviewing; it wasn't my attention) And I love you all so very much.

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Chapter 32: Grab Her

Draco's elbow hurt. He didn't know why, and he wasn't sure how long it had, but he knew it hurt. The pain just appeared, and it took a few moments of staring at the table he had struck it on to realize what had happened. He had fallen onto a nearby chair and banged it on the table. He had fallen because he had gotten some very shocking and disturbing news. The news was that Charlie was dead. Charlie is dead. Charlie is dead.

He repeated the phrase in his mind, waiting for some sort of dark epiphany to take over him. It couldn't be. Charlie couldn't be dead. Charlie had always been there, ever since Draco was born. He helped raise him. He taught him his colors. Charlie would point to flowers they would pass on walks and ask "What color is that?" and Baby Draco would tell him. Charlie would watch Draco when his parents went away and scold him when he talked back. One time, he called Draco a brat. Draco never forgot it. It had a bigger impact on him then anything his parents had ever called him.

Even when he and Charlie hadn't gotten along when he became a teenager, Charlie had never left. He could have quit. He could have moved away. But he didn't. Charlie was always there. And now he wasn't.

Draco felt Hermione wipe away the tears falling down his face of their own accord. She smelled nice. "I'm sorry I kissed you," he heard himself say.

"No, no, it's okay," she said. She was crying, too. They didn't speak for a long time. His stomach rumbled.

"I need to go home, I think." Hermione nodded. She ran into their bedroom and scribbled a note to Dumbledore. When she gave it to Draco's owl, he reached into his pocket and pulled out the letter he had just written to Charlie. Did that really just happen? It seemed like a while ago. That was when Charlie was alive. And now Charlie is dead. Charlie is dead. He flipped the letter over in his hands. Had Charlie been alive when he wrote it? When did it happen? How did it happen? Breathing heavy, sweat gleaming their foreheads, the couple stumbled across the border of Hogsmeade. Draco felt the familiar tug behind his navel and Hermione apparated them by the Malfoy property line.

Hermione was nervous. She felt a slight twinge of guilt thinking of herself right now, but she knew that whatever lay beyond those doors was as unwelcoming as a snake. Draco led the way as the doors opened automatically for him. There was no one in sight, a fact that both Draco and Hermione were happy about. There was a box on Draco's bed, not even filled to the brim. He sat down next to it, but didn't reach inside.

"I can't believe it," he said quietly. Hermione sat down next to him and linked their arms together. "He was my whole family."

"You still have your mom and dad," she tried. He just shook his head.

"I've never felt anything related to love from those people." Hermione stroked his back slowly, like you would a child who couldn't get to sleep. "Did you see the way he talked about him? My dad?" he added, seeing Hermione's confused face.'The driver'... he worked in this house for over twenty years, and they don't even call him by name." She didn't reply.

"Do you mind?" She gestured to the box. Draco shook his head. She pulled out a letter addressed to Draco, and an old, old photograph. "Is this him?" She leaned the picture towards him, but Draco just shrugged. The man in the photograph couldn't have been much older than Draco, but he could see some of Charlie's patience in those eyes. "He's so young here." Draco scooted closer and really took in what he was seeing. A young couple, happy as could be, on their wedding day.

"That's his wife," Draco said.

"Did you know her?" Hermione asked. He shook his head.

"She died before I was born. She got sick and never got better," he replied, quoting Charlie's own words.

"How old was she?" Draco searched the database of his brain for that day Charlie told him about his wife. The day Charlie got him to speak. He had said they were together for 35 years. If Draco was judging the portrait right, they had to be about 18 when they married.

"I don't know... I think she was only fifty-something." And Charlie never remarried. He knew he was a goner when he said those vows. Draco had spent a long time wondering if he, too, was a goner.

"At least now they can be together," Hermione said with a small smile. Strange enough, it did make Draco feel better. "My grandpa and I were really close. He died last year. They put a beautiful poem on the little funeral program. I don't remember most of it, but it went something like 'Don't grieve for me for now I'm free; I'm following the path God laid for me; I took His hand when I heard Him call... I don't remember the rest. I have it in my nightstand if you want to read it. It basically says that he's free now and to think of all the good times because he'll miss you, too, but he's free. So you should feel free, too." She worried her rambling had made it worse. Instead, he took her hand and held it in silence. "He lived a long life," she continued. "And he loved you just as much as you loved him, if not more. He wouldn't want you to be unhappy."

Something in what she said struck a chord. A shift, deep in his stomach, took place. Something slipped into place. He saw Nanette, happy, in a endless field of roses. The sun was so bright, shining and warm around her. He had never seen her smile so genuine. And he saw Charlie and his bride, young like in their photo. They kissed, like they hadn't in years, like they had fought long and hard to get to this moment. Tears streamed down their faces. Tears of joy.

Draco opened his mouth to tell Hermione what he saw in his mind's eye when the door burst open with a loud bang.

"Oh, hello, Draco. Lovely to see you." His mother then looked at Hermione, and her stare went ice cold. "Grab her!"


	33. 33 Three Options

Thank you my darlings for your patience with that cliff hanger :D Kayla is staring at me wanting me to post so we can drink and I can no longer resist her. Viva le resistance. But not. Cuz it's dying. Right now. As always, read and review! Kthnxbai.

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"Grab her!" Narcissa ordered, directing a large man toward the teenage girl. Hermione screamed, but was too surprised to defend herself. The man held her arms behind her back before she could grab her wand. The man nodded curtly towards Narcissa when he had a strong hold on her.

"Mother, what are you doing?" Draco shouted. He turned to the brute, "Let go of her!" Narcissa raised her hand for him to ignore her son's orders.

"Draco, your father is on his way up. When he gets here, I expect you to have a very good reason for your behavior," she said coolly. Hermione was perturbed by Narcissa. She spoke to him like he was a child who had knocked over a lamp.

A shiver ran up Draco's spine at the mention of his father. Lucius had hit him before, even cursed him, and Draco was in no rush to repeat the past. He heard a creak outside. A man with the same hair and eyes as Draco's stepped through the door, and everyone in the room held their breath. _That's power_, Draco thought. It was all his father ever wanted. And he got it.

"Draco," Lucius greeted his son in his wife's same icy tone. "Do you mind explaining this?" He waved his hand over the room as though it was Draco's fault that Hermione was being held hostage.

"I can explain." Did his voice always sound so small? "We're cursed. We can't spend more than-"

"We know about that, darling," his mother interrupted. Draco's brow furrowed in confusion.

"What?"

"Your good friend Blaise wrote to us from school a few months ago. He said he was concerned for you and what effect this... _situation_... might have on the family." Narcissa let slip a sly smile that reminded Hermione of the one Draco used to wear in their first years at school. "He's a good friend," Lucius added, as though it was an order rather than a statement. "What we are more concerned about is the letter we received just an hour ago. Blaise seems to think that he witnessed a rather unusual event transpiring between you and... _this_." He gestured toward Hermione like she was a pile of dirty laundry. When Draco didn't respond, Lucius nudged further. "In a dimly lit corridor? This very afternoon?"

Draco's memory was suddenly jogged. Blaise had seen him kiss Hermione. "That," Draco replied, "is none of your damned business." Draco prepared himself for the strike he was sure to receive. But Lucius stayed where he was.

"I thought you might be difficult." He smiled, but his eyes screamed murder. "That is why you have three options. One, you are disowned, and you never will never receive help, money, or contact from this family ever again. Two, you end whatever it is that is happening between you and this Mudblood and keep your interaction to a respectable minimum until the curse is lifted."

After a moment of silence, Draco said, "You said I had three options." No one smiled this time.

"Three... we kill her."

"WHAT?" Draco and Hermione exclaimed at the same time. Hermione thought there was no way that they were serious. Draco knew what they were capable of.

Lucius continued in the same bored tone, "If you feel that you are unable to keep yourself from her if you are forced into close contact, then we have a proposed solution. The curse is not guaranteed to break, but your mother and I feel it is our best option. It would be made to look like an accident, of course- a product of the curse. And you would be free to act as though this never happened." Draco said nothing, he was so shocked. "We protect our own, Draco. We protect our family. At all costs."

"Even if you choose to let her live, we just want you to know what we would do for you," Narcissa said in a sickeningly sweet way. "What we are prepared to do to keep you safe."

"You wouldn't," Hermione spat from the corner. She laughed nervously, it was too ridiculous. "There's no way!"

"Oh, wouldn't we?" Lucius replied, almost amused. "To protect our legacy, I would do anything."

"Option One," Draco said loudly, so he would not be misheard.

The corner of Lucius' mouth twitched. "I'm sorry? What was that Draco? I don't think I could have possibly heard you right."

"Draco, they're your family," Hermione protested. Draco laughed icily.

"The only family I had died today. He was a sweet old man who taught me more and raised me better then either of you ever could. You were either never around, treated me like a prized show dog, or just hit me whenever I stepped out of line. The only parental love I've ever felt from anyone was at the hands of that driver." He looked at his parents with disgust. "And you can't even remember his name."

Narcissa scoffed, "I remember his name!" but the look in her eyes told the room that she had no idea. Hermione felt sorry for her. She may have had genuine feelings toward Draco, but was incapable of listening to a word he said. "It was Doug, was it not?"

"CHARLIE!" Draco roared.

"You do not speak to your mother like that!" Lucius shouted.

"She's not my mother anymore! Not according to your plans. If I have to choose between living without you or living without her, I'd easily take the former."

"You dare choose a Mudblood over your own blood? Is this about that Muggle girl? Are you trying to punish us for _your_ mistakes? You are still such a child." Draco's blood boiled over.

"HER NAME WAS NANETTE!" he screamed. "And Hermione is not a Mudblood! She's the smartest, strongest person I know! She's my best friend, and she knows me better then anyone on this planet! You _would_ have to kill her to keep me from being with her, but in order to do that, you'll have to kill me first. What do you say, Dad? Shouldn't be too difficult for you. I was never good enough anyway. Always the disappointment. Well, let me say, THE FEELING IS MUTUAL!"

Lucius raised his wand in hot fury, but Draco was too quick for him. He blasted his father out through the open door and stunned the crony that had hold of Hermione before anyone could realize what was happening. "Grab the box!" he told Hermione, and she flung the letter and photograph back in it's container. Draco rifled through his nightstand and stuffed a few items into the box. He had a hold of Hermione's arm when he stopped.

"Draco!" his mother cried out behind him. She didn't have her wand, and her eyes shone with tears. "I'm sorry," she whispered. He nodded in reply, then apparated himself and Hermione out of there.

The moment they were back in Hogsmeade, they fell to the ground. Hermione did a check for injuries, then looked Draco once over for any damage. They were both fine. She stood up and lifted the box of Draco's only outside possessions into her arms. "Are you okay?" she asked cautiously. There was no way he was okay. He lost his only real family, followed immediately by the severance of ties to his only means of survival and all blood relatives.

"Fine," he said, despite this. She held out her hand to help him up. He took it and she leaned back, letting her body weight lift him off the floor. He didn't let go of her hand.

She knew he was in a place of grief, and that just an hour ago she was berating him for kissing her. It would not be a smart choice to let her emotions take hold. But she didn't really care. She pulled him down by the neck and kissed him softly. Just one kiss. When they separated, she asked, "Am I really the strongest person you know?"

"Yes," he replied. "I want to be with you," he said suddenly. "Not maybe, not slowly, not anything. Just you and me, Granger." Hermione didn't say anything, but despite herself, she smiled. He kissed her, long and deep, holding her tight against him. A chill breeze whipped at their cheeks, but he and Hermione felt overheated by the kiss. She was so afraid. Through everything she had been through, every bully and every trick, she still felt like he was about to admit the elaborate prank he was pulling on her. Like there was no way this could be happening to her; it was too good.

"Do you trust me?" he asked, breaking their embrace. Hermione ran her hands down his sides, feeling his muscles expand and contract with every breath.

"More than I should," she replied.

"Then wait here," he said, moving away from her. "I'll be right back." Hermione opened her mouth to protest, placing a hand on his cheek. But before she could touch him, he was gone.

Draco took a deep breath. He hadn't spent more than two months with this room as familiar territory, but the smell of it was engraved in his memory. Nanette's room was identical to when he last saw it. It was eerie to think that no one would ever sleep in those sheets again or dirty the floor with laundry. But he had had enough of harsh realizations. Reliving painful memories was not why he was here. He was here to say goodbye.

He lay back on the bed on which he had greeted the day and made love in the night so many lifetimes ago. He closed his eyes and imagined again the happy Nanette he saw earlier that day. Hair like the sun. Eyes so blue, it was like the sky was reflected in them. A cool quirky exterior hiding the lost soul underneath. Well... not lost anymore. He lay his hand, open and palm-up next to him on the bed. He imagined her placing her hand in his, smiling. He could smell her. Feel her.

"Netta, I don't know if you're there... I've never been very religious, so I don't know anything about souls or heaven or any of that stuff. But I do believe that there's an afterlife. And I do believe that you're happy and at peace. I don't know if you can hear me, but I want to say... even though I think you already know... I want to say that I love you. I will always love you. There aren't words to tell you what you've done for me and how you've changed me. But you're gone, and I think you'd want me to be happy." He squeezed the fabric underneath him. "I _know_ you want me to be happy. And though it's been the most painful thing I have ever experienced, I will never regret meeting you." He laughed, "And you kidnapping me. And buying me a sandwich. And stripping in front of me. And being my first... at everything. I wouldn't trade it for anything." He rose from the bed, straightening the dent he had made laying there.

He was about to apparate back to Hogsmeade when he stopped. He reached down into his pocket and pulled out the gold ring. "_Always With You, Love Draco"_ The engraving seemed so fitting now. "I am always with you," he whispered. He thought he was probably hallucinating, but he felt the air change. It was warmer. The room seemed brighter. He placed the ring on Nanette's nightstand and apparated home.


	34. 34 Taking a Chance

Short, but hopefully worth it update ;) I promise another update within the next week, I know how I leave you guys on awful cliffhangers. But don't worry! Fret not! For I love you, and I would never betray those that I love. Not on purpose, anyway. Love love love you all.

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Hermione's leg shook, and she folded and unfolded her arms in anticipation. Her stomach flipped in Draco's absence. She hadn't even had a chance to think before he had fled, leaving her alone for the first time in weeks. They had time. He had been gone seconds.

_She's the strongest, smartest person I know,_ he had said. _She's my best friend_. The thought made her smile. She rubbed her hands together nervously and began to pace to ease her stomach. She ran her hands through her hair in an effort to take the tangled locks, but knew there was no point. He had seen her at her worst. There was no point in hiding anything from him now. She combed at the strands until her head hurt from tugging. Or was it from Draco's absence?

Her eyes glazed over as she thought of her return. Thoughts ran through her head that made her flush, and she was almost glad he was gone. Running her hands down his back, entwining his fingers through hers, tugging at his hair as his lips ran over her skin... She bumped into a nearby fence distractedly and her face turned even redder. A faint _pop_ and muffled footprints only made it worse. She took a deep breath and turned around, leaning against the fence she had just run into.

"Hey," she said, shoving her hands in her pockets.

Draco turned to her. "Hey." They began to make their way up to the castle.

Hermione searched her mind for something to say. "Where'd you go?" she asked innocently. They were a foot apart now.

"Nanette's," he replied, halving the space between them.

"Oh," she nodded. She didn't know what to say. Draco continued forward.

"I said goodbye. I gave her her ring and said goodbye."

They were quiet walking through Hogwarts. "You've been through a lot today," she said quietly. "I understand if you wanted to... _undo_ any of it." She kept her eyes forward.

"What's happened has happened. No point in regret, is there?" She finally looked at him. "But nice try," he added.

Hermione looked away, but her lips played a small smile. "I don't know what you're talking about."

They were at their portrait door now. He took her face in his hands, turning her head so she had to look at him. "I lied," she whispered. "There's no way I trust you." Her eyes were fierce, her brow furrowed. She pulled away and stepped through to their common room.

Draco followed her in and wrapped his arms around her. She closed her eyes and breathed deep. Her hands found his sides and she leaned into his chest, feeling him breathe. _This is real_, she thought fiercely. _You'll never live if you don't take a chance._ Her hand slipped up his back, feeling the hot skin underneath. The sensation made him breathe in sharply, a noise that sounded heavily erotic to Hermione. She felt the ridges of muscle in his lower back with the tips of her fingers and felt his chest rise and fall beneath her cheek. She wrapped her arms around him and squeezed lightly before leaning up and placing a kiss on his neck.

Draco took his cue and kissed her lips, freed by her permission. His arm took her waist, and their hearts raced.

Tenderly, but quickly, they felt each other's hot skin. They moved together, synced and fluid. Draco's jacket fell to the floor, and the buttons of his shirt fell open. Hermione was lifted, her legs wrapped around his waist, as her top was lifted over her head. They were in a daze, everything moving of its own accord, but still they were so present. Before she knew it, she was pulling at the button of his pants, staring intently into his eyes. She wanted this, to feel connected to him in this way. When Draco kissed her, she was sure he was thinking of her skin and her eyes only. It was a new feeling.

Their lips disconnected for moments only throughout the next hour. Moments stuck out in their minds later, though the entire event was on the whole a blur of touching flesh. Hermione clung to him, whispering requests and tiny noises of pleasure. Draco had no idea she was so beautiful. Her moans drove him over the edge, and the orgasm she experienced (her first, as she would confess later) was happily given.

They fell asleep wrapped up in each other, no fabric separating them this time. For a while, Draco lie awake, watching her dream, stroking her hair. It was the most beautiful he'd ever seen her, in the afterglow of their first time together. Her fingers intertwined his in her sleep, and she refused to let go.

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THEY BANGED. You're welcome.


	35. 35 The Morning After

Hello lovelies! Sorry for the short update, and the lack of them for a while. I've been dealing with a LOT of stuff in my head (nothing you kiddies probably care about) and haven't had the time or energy or sobriety to update. For the reviewer who said that the last chapter wasn't very graphic for an 'M' rating- you're completely right and DON'T YOU WORRY, KIDDO, you'll have your porn in the next few chapters. This is slightly more inappropriate than last chapter, but nowhere near an M rating. I promise you I will earn that rating by the end of the story. AS GOD AS MY WITNESS, I WILL NOT LET YOU PEOPLE DOWN.

...I'm sorry... -sniff- I must have something in my eye.

* * *

Draco groaned and stretched, his limbs stiff from sleep. He and Hermione had class today, but he wasn't eager to get going. He turned over and wrapped his arms around the girl next to him, pulling her into his body. It woke her, and she turned over to face him, keeping the sheets up to cover her naked body. She yawned and stretched, then pulled herself into a little ball.

"Oh, god," she said sleepily, covering her face with her hands. She separated her fingers a little and peeked through. When she saw Draco still there next to her, she closed her eyes and buried her face into the pillow. "Oh, god," she said again.

"What, am I less pretty in the morning?" he asked cheerily. Hermione pulled the sheets up over her shoulder and hugged a stray pillow, hiding herself behind it. She looked at him, his shoulders and arms strong and alluring. She pushed her face into the pillow and moved further down the bed.

"Nope," he heard her muffled voice say. "Still pretty."

"Then why are you trying to run away?" he laughed. She had burrowed down so that the blankets now completely covered her head.

"I'm insecure, leave me alone," she whined. She popped her head out and lay it against his chest. "We have class today," she said flatly.

"Yes we do," he agreed. Hermione didn't move, eager to keep things exactly as they were. "So... we're together then?" he asked.

"Is that what you want?" She didn't want to be the first to say it. To go out on that limb, only to be disappointed. She had taken enough risk sleeping with him, really sleeping with him, to only realized she had been used again.

"That's definitely what I want," he replied, moving so he could kiss her. His lips felt soft and warm, and she felt comforted by his confidence.

"Me too," she whispered. "Should we still act as friends around other people? Blaise will know by now that you left your family. Maybe we shouldn't provoke him now that he has no one to fear by hurting you-"

"Let him try," he said. She had a feeling that this had something to do with 'being a man' and all that so she didn't try to argue. But she most certainly didn't like his willingness to put himself in harm's way. Then again, what would she do in his shoes? She hugged him tightly around the middle and kissed his chest quickly before getting up to get dressed. "So we're doing this?" he said, amused, as he pulled on a pair of boxer-briefs. Hermione laughed lightly.

"I guess so," she replied. She stood in their sheet, pulling pieces of clothing out of her closet and drawers.

"You always take so long to get dressed," he said from the bathroom while brushing his teeth. She rolled her eyes.

"You should talk, you're only in your underwear." She put her toothbrush in her mouth then continued, "You know I have to plan my outfit."

"It's a school uniform, what's there to plan?" Draco spit into the sink. He ran his fingers through his hair a few times then gave up, deciding that messy was good enough.

"I have to allow to weather change from morning to afternoon, what I wore yesterday, and if I have a more hands-on class like Care of Magical Creatures, I can't wear a skirt, and-"

"I get it," Draco interrupted. She passed him into the bathroom to rinse out her mouth, sheet trailing behind her. He stood in the doorway of the bathroom, just watching her. When she tried to slip past him to get dressed, he blocked the way. She didn't ask him to move because he was looking at her too intensely for interruption. His hand gripped the back of her neck and he pulled her up into a slow kiss. She felt as though her eyes rolled back in her head she was so absorbed by his lips. She could feel him pulling softly at the fabric that clung to her body and she made no move to stop him. A cold feeling rushed down her body at the new exposure and as she shivered, Draco pulled her close to him and the heat his body gave off.

Her leg, seemingly of it's own accord, traveled up to wrap around his. Draco's hand gripped it just above the knee and lifted her so her legs wrapped around his waist. He sat her on the dresser and she could feel him growing hard against her. "Draco, wait," Hermione said, breaking their kiss. "We have class."

"In an hour," he said, kissing her lips again.

"We'll miss breakfast," she pleaded.

"I can wait till lunch," he confessed breathily. But she pushed him away. She was going to say something, a small smile escaping across her lips, but she had lost her train of thought. There were only a few inches between them, and she didn't even realize she was naked. "What?" he asked, breathing harder than usual. The breathing contracted his muscles and the sound of it was amazing. He was trying very hard to not look down at her body, and it was extremely difficult to just stand there and not touch her. She ran her hand down his chest and a sensation of heat ran through her.

She gently hooked her ankle around his leg, pulling him towards her. Hermione took his hand in hers. "Nevermind," dropped from her lips, but before the word could hit the ground they were connected again. He kissed her hard and felt the curve of her thigh; she wondered why he had bothered putting on underwear. She was on fire as she tugged at his hair. Her stomach filled with butterflies every time he touched her. She clung to his neck as they moved against each other, soft moans escaping them. "Faster," Hermione moaned. She leaned back in pleasure, and the sight of her body arched against the wall just made Draco move faster and harder. He ran his hand down her torso, feeling the curve of her arched body. It didn't take long for the throws to reach their peak. Hermione's grip held tight to Draco, her fingers twisted in his hair. A gutteral sound echoed in his throat as he reached his climax. He sighed into her neck as he finished then kissed her lightly on her collarbone.

Hermione checked the clock over his shoulder and squealed. They rushed to pull on their clothes and ran down to breakfast, managing to catch some toast before everyone started moving towards class.

"Where were you?" asked Ron. Hermione blushed slightly before mumbling incoherent words of dismissal. The boys' eyes narrowed, but they didn't push the issue.

"Ready?" Draco was at the Gryffindor table, shirt untucked and bread hanging from his mouth. Hermione nodded and shyly stood up, waving a quick goodbye to her friends.

"See you at lunch," she said. Draco saw she was being timid and poked her in the side. She squeaked but smiled; she was ticklish. "Stop," she whined, swatting his hand away. He did it again and she laughed aloud. "Stop!"

By now the couple had entered the hallway amongst the hundred other students heading to class. Their classmates stared; only weeks ago Draco and Hermione had shocked the school by declaring their friendship. Now they were… flirting? Slytherins sneered and Gryffindors grimaced as they laughed loudly together, all the tension of their open friendship disappeared.

The two students' first class of the day was Transfiguration. Today, the lesson was to transform a simple wooden broom into a pair of metal tongs. "Because this is going to be useful," Draco

said sarcastically.

"You never know," said Hermione, ever the defender of her education. They were practicing in pairs now, and Hermione's broom had shortened and turned metallic. Draco's had turned into tongs no problem, but still maintained its giant size. Draco took them and began snapping them at his girlfriend, making her laugh amongst the noise of the crowded classroom.  
When the class had turned its attention back to Professor McGonagall, Draco grabbed onto Hermione's hand under their table. She blushed again and didn't notice Pansy Parkinson open her mouth wide at the sight.


	36. 36 Hermione Granger

Hello my lovelies! Here is an update for yous. I have the next chapter written already so that should be updated soonish as well. I'm having more time to write because I don't want to pay attention in class (and in PoliSci I don't have to) so hopefully I get a few ideas and get back into the flow of things. As always, let me know what you think and stuffs.

* * *

Pansy stomped through the halls searching for her target. Hermione and Draco were distracted by each other and didn't notice her following them like a lioness. She studied them. The way they looked at one another and laughed together... Whatever had happened over the last twenty-four hours had changed their entire dynamic and it angered her. His arm slipped around Hermione's waist when no one was looking; she stared at him just moments too long. Pansy felt rage surge through her body at the two of them. Not only did Draco no longer show interest in her, but he had chosen a _Mudblood _instead?

Well. There was no way he could get away with that.

* * *

Draco and Hermione walked through the castle that day, almost completely unaware of the effect they had on the student body. Students stared openly, making Hermione extremely uncomfortable. She did her best to focus on what Draco was telling her, but she couldn't ignore the whispers and suspicious looks. Twice, he tried to hold her hand between classes and she shied away.

When they returned to their room that afternoon, Draco had questions. "What was up with you today?" he asked. She avoided his eyes.

"I don't know what you mean," she lied.

"Why wouldn't you let me hold your hand or touch you? I thought this was what you wanted."

"It is," insisted Hermione. "It's just... People were staring." Her voice was quieter than she intended.

"So?"

"_So_... I don't like to stand out. It only brings trouble." Hermione had still not looked up.

"From who, Pansy? Blaise?"

"From _whom_."

"Don't change the subject. They can't hurt you." He put his hands on her shoulders and she finally looked at him.

"Yes, they can," she replied. "And if they don't, then someone else will." Her eyes were fierce and Draco decided not to argue. He pulled her into him and hugged her.

"Well I'll be around. I can protect you," he said into her neck.

Hermione hugged him back, but didn't reply. She thought, almost ashamed for all they had been through together, _N__ot if you're the one hurting me._

Hermione tossed and turned that night. In her dreams, she ran and ran but could never travel more than a few inches each step. She couldn't tell if she was running from something or towards it. There were people everywhere, lining the streets she ran through. She recognized fellow students and Muggles from home. She wasn't moving fast enough, but hard as she pushed she could never accelerate.

She began to sweat in Draco's arms. In her dream Hermione suddenly looked down and discovered she had only a large t-shirt on; one that barely covered her backside. She was in a mall now, one she recognized from home. Everyone was staring. She ran and ran and suddenly she sat up in bed awake.

"Did you have a nightmare?" Draco asked groggily. She breathed deeply for a moment then nodded. "I thought you didn't have any anymore."

She shook her head. "This wasn't the same dream."

"What was it about?" he asked. She wiped the sweat from her forehead. Even though he hadn't made an appearance in her dream, Ethan's image crossed her mind. She had sensed him as she had struggled through the streets.

"I don't want to talk about it," she said in a flat tone. She rolled away from Draco and pretended to fall asleep. He didn't push it, but kissed her shoulder lightly before going back to sleep. She felt bad, but somehow she felt that this was all for her own protection.

* * *

Before moving forwards, light must be shed on the inner turmoil of Hermione Granger. Hermione had always been smarter than most, but that was not what separated her from the rest of her peers. It was her uncensored determination and drive that kept her an outcast; her need to share her information helped little. People don't like to be proven wrong, and this fact was not something Hermione understood but made effort towards correcting. Her work was in vain, however, for the harder she tried to educate the world, the harder they resisted her.

It was not as simple as ignoring a little girl with a heavy book cradled under her arm. The adults around her knew of her promise and were charmed by her love of learning. But children, from the time she was little, saw her as a threat and fought back. She was bullied relentlessly from the moment she started school. Twice she had told school officials that she had fallen down and gotten serious injuries that were actually caused by fellow students.

Then her Hogwarts letter came. The promise of a new school, a new life, and a new world to learn about. She was surprised, then, when the new students turned out to be exactly like the old ones. The day Ron Weasley teased her behind her back, she didn't cry because she was hurt; she cried because she was disappointed.

Even when she, Ron and Harry had become friends, she never trusted them completely. The first few years of her life were filled with nothing but pain, and she always felt that that pain was nearby. Waiting. Watching. There were moments, more than she was able to count, when she thought she saw a look between her only two friends. This look said so much, and stabbed her in her heart. It said "She's doing it again", "God, how annoying", "Why won't she leave us alone", "I can't believe she thinks we like her" and countless other things. Her only comfort was her logical mind, breaking through the emotional haze, telling her that if they had actually thought these things, they wouldn't hang around her for six years and say nothing.

_But then where would they get help with their homework,_ the voice in her head would say. Every day was a battle within herself. She only gained Muggle friends over the last year, and though she loved them, they were not immune to her distrust. Ethan using her wasn't even the worst blow to her confidence; he was now a symbol her mind latched onto that proved everything she ever feared was right.

So even though Draco seemed to understand her and care for her, she couldn't trust him. She had started to trust someone once, and that had nearly killed her. Draco was too perfect. It couldn't be true. He was gorgeous, and smart, and was stuck with her whether he wanted or not. But now, it seemed like he wanted her. She didn't understand it. How could anyone like her? She was so...

That is what it was like in Hermione Granger's head. Speaking a million miles a minute about some obscure fact no one knew, all the while her brain was screaming at her to shut up. She was lonely, so lonely, because she didn't let anyone in. To let someone in would be suicide. Equal to death. Unacceptable for someone to see her as clearly as she saw herself. And so many times, she couldn't take it anymore and just wanted everything there was to her (her brain, her personality, and all the little traits that irked her to no end) to die.

* * *

Hope that didn't depress you all; I actually don't think it's a good enough passage. I wanted to pain the picture but I don't know if I've done it well enough. I'll rewrite this chapter later for sure until I'm satisfied, but I didn't want you guys to not get an update just because I'm picky. Anyway, lots of love. -Katherine


	37. 37 The Note

Hellooooooooo, kiddies! You are not my kiddies but you ARE my beloved slave masters. Because you have hung out with me for DAYS and I haven't posted in almost a year- did you know that? A friend of mine told me that and I was SHOCKED, I had to post immediately. I'm writing two books and going to school on TOP of my fanfiction life so I appreciate your patience but you are being mistreated and I understand that. Honestly, you deserve better. Hopefully I will neglect school and write my stories and become famous for the stories so I won't have to do school YAYYY.

Either way. I love you. You deserve better. You're the shit, fans. This is short but really I'm writing more now legitimately.

* * *

The next night, Draco scribbled in his little black notebook all the thoughts inside his head. He had written down Nanette's story and little snippets of memory of how she was so he would never forget her. But now he wrote about Hermione. The way her brow furrowed when she did homework; the smile she tried to repress when he was being silly; the way her body moved and jerked when he touched her in intimate places. He sat in the tub now, purging himself of the mess of his mind. Hermione washed in the shower behind him. "Have you done your essay yet?" he asked over the noise of the water.

"Which one?" she replied.

"Both."

"I want to edit my Potions essay one more time, and maybe start writing my study schedule for finals." She shut the water off.

"It's March, finals are three months off!"

Hermione sighed and stepped out in her towel. "As I tell Harry and Ron every year, you can never start too early."

"Well, if we believe anyone it should be you. I mean, you get the highest grades every year."

"Thank you, I do." Draco closed his notebook and gestured that she join him sitting in the tub. "But I'm all wet," she protested.

"I don't care, come here." She wrung her hair out into the sink then sat on his lap, legs hanging out the side of the bath. He sighed into her shoulder and wrapped his arms around her. They sat in silence for a while, recent events weighing on Draco's mind.

"Have you gone through Charlie's things yet?" Hermione asked as though she sensed that that was what troubled him. Draco shook his head. "Well, there's no rush." She didn't want to seem pushy.

"Let's do it now," he said suddenly and they stumbled out of the tub.

"Are you sure you want me around? I can read in the other room, I'm sure it's very personal-"

"Hermione, if I don't want you around for something, I"ll tell you. Don't worry about it."

_Don't worry about it,_ she thought. _But I'm so good at worrying._ She slipped on her pajamas and sat next to him on their bed. He had the box out now and was staring at the wedding photograph. Charlie beamed at his bride as she radiated with joy.

"They never had any children," Draco said.

"He had you." Draco let slip a small smile. Hermione gently lifted the frame from his hands and left the room; he followed her out the door and watched her place the photo on the center of the mantelpiece about the common room fire. "Now he can watch over you just like he did at the Manor." Draco's face was stoic, but he nodded.

The rest of the box was filled with a very random selection of items. Most of his things, Draco guessed, the Malfoys kept, claiming them as their own property. One of the richest families in the nation and still they could never spare a dime for one not their own. Charlie's room at the Manor had been bare at best with plain, simple furniture and nothing more than was necessary.

Hermione pulled out a set of military medals from World War II. "It's very uncommon for wizards to take part in Muggle wars," she said. "He must have been very brave." Draco said nothing. There was also an old spinning top, a thick stack of letters, a barely-used scratched up notebook, and a small pouch of sickles and knuts. The notebook was blank save for a few addresses scribbled on the last page. Draco promised himself, and Charlie, that he'd one day let these people know of Charlie's passing. The top had no magical element as far as they could tell. A few receipts lined the bottom of the box.

There were about 20 letters in the stack, each from someone named "Bea". Hermione and Draco read thought them in silence, commenting on who she was or what they were about now and again. It was clear from the first letter read that "Bea" was Charlie's sweetheart during the War. Draco found a passage in one letter than explained that Bea was short for Beatrice.

"Draco," said Hermione about eight letters in. "I think this woman was Charlie's wife." She flipped over the page in her hands. "And I think she was a Muggle."

"What?" She showed him the letter she had been reading.

"I think he told her when he was on leave. Listen, _'I told you on the Green that I would think about your proposal and I have. I have spent hours trying to understand this condition of yours and, I'll be plain, I cannot understand it still. But Charlie, I love you, and I would be deeply proud to become your wife.'_ 'Condition?' Do you think he told her he was a wizard?"

"Sounds like it." Draco lowered the letter in his hands. "I can't believe she was a Muggle and he never told me." He thought back to the day Charlie had told him his opinion on Muggles. Had the old man been too scared to tell Draco his past? Was he afraid of the Malfoy family? Or of Draco?

"He probably didn't think it was important," Hermione urged. Draco laughed. He doubted many people would find that detail unimportant, but was grateful for her comfort all the same.

"Was he a religious man?" she asked.

He nodded. "Very." Hermione wrapped her arms around Draco's body.

"Well then maybe you can think of it like he probably did. That he's with God now in Heaven." Draco's whole body tensed between Hermione's fingertips. "Draco?" He shot up off the bed, the tattered notebook falling open on the floor. He sprinted to the living room, Hermione trailing behind.

"What is it?" she cried, startled. He was holding the case file open, loose papers fluttering to the ground. Draco looked up, horrified.

"They didn't kill themselves."

* * *

Cliffhanger hahahahahahahahahhahahhhahahhahahahahaaaa. Don't worry, I got you. More chappyter soon. Hokay thanks. Seriously love you.


	38. 38 Suicide in Bed

This chapter is for Grace, who is amazing. This is not based on chapter content but for being a cool main character so far (wink!). And honestly you guys need another chapter. Love you guys forever.

* * *

"What do you mean they didn't kill themselves?" Hermione's eyes had narrowed. A chill ran through her body.

"I mean something else must have happened to them because they couldn't have committed suicide. Remember Castillo's note?" He tossed papers to the floor in search for the one document he needed.

"Of course, I can't count how many times I've read it." Hermione quoted from memory. " 'To my Mama and Papa- I love you more than I could ever tell. I will forever regret that I had to leave you, but it was the only way. Just know that the time I spent with you was the happiest I have ever been, and that I'm free now. God has saved me from my suffering and will reward me in the Kingdom of Heaven. I love you forever.' What about it?" He read over the scribbled mess she had quoted in his hand.

"Religion is practically dripping from this page. Her profile says she was Catholic, clearly talking about God and the 'Kingdom of Heaven'- she was far too devoted to make so common an error."

"What error?!" she cried, incredibly frustrated with the suspense.

"Catholics believe that you can't go to Heaven if you commit suicide. Either she didn't write this note, which is still suspicious, or they didn't kill themselves."

"Oh my god."

"Exactly."

Draco fell back onto the nearest chair. "What does this mean?" Hermione asked. "What happened to them?" Her stomach bundled into knots.

"I don't know," Draco replied. He held his face in his hands, searching for answers. "This is bad." His leg shook as a nervous tick. Hermione pushed her chair over to him and stroked his back, mind elsewhere. They stayed like that, using all the intellectual talents they possessed to piece the clues together.

Out of nowhere a loud noise erupted from the side of the room. Hermione yelped in surprise; Draco had thrust his school bag 20 feet to the wall opposite. It happened so quickly and suddenly that Hermione hadn't seen him do it right in front of her face. He groaned aloud.

"This is bullshit!"

"What is?"

"This! Everything! We shouldn't have to deal with this, we're just kids!" He paced back and forth in front of the fireplace.

"I know," she said. Her many experiences with Ron and Harry in her earlier Hogwarts years kept her calm, even in the face of possible death.

"It's not fair," he replied angrily. "Are we going to die too? Be murdered even? That'd be just-" he swatted at the schoolwork on the table "- perfect." He stood fuming.

Hermione rose from her seat and placed her hands on his hips. "I know," she repeated. She wished she could say something to comfort him, but she had no idea where to begin. She opened her mouth to start when Draco let his head fall to her shoulder.

"I can't do this," he mumbled. His voice was like a child's, tiny and afraid.

"We don't have a choice. But I know we can." She was firm and her voice strong. With all they had done so far, she really was certain that if Draco was by her side she could survive. His shoulders shook and he let loose a small sob. Hermione had a small moment of absolute panic. Comforting people in everyday distress was an obstacle she had not yet tackled. What in the world was she to do when she saw a boy crying? She wrapped her arms around him to start. Maybe if she was just there. Maybe that's all he needed. She hoped.

After a few minutes Draco picked his head up and wiped roughly at his tear-stained face. "Sorry."

"Don't apologize." He smiled faintly, then patted her on the shoulder.

"At least I have no family or friends to care if I get murdered," he shrugged. He kissed her forehead lightly and turned towards their bedroom. "You're all I've got, kid." She smiled.

"I may just have to stick around then."

"Of course they wouldn't have caught it," Draco said in bed that night. "What knowledge would a bunch of highly-trained Aurors have about Muggle religion?"

"How did you know?" Hermione asked curiously.

"When Nanette died Charlie thought I might do something stupid. He told me about his beliefs in hope I'd refrain from the unspeakable." His tone was surprisingly light.

Hermione didn't speak for a while. "Were you tempted?"

"Of course I was tempted," he snapped. "I'm sorry," he said quickly, "I didn't mean it to sound like that. But... the only person I ever loved and who had ever shown love for me was ripped from me. I wanted to see her again. But I could never do something that selfish."

"Suicide _isn't_ selfish." Hermione sat up. "I'm sorry but it makes me crazy when people say that! It's selfish for people to think they have a right to your life like that. That you're being taken away from them, oh I'm so sorry I had no idea I had to live for you. Ugh!" She threw her hands up in frustration. "It disgusts me that even in the face of crippling depression and the death of their friend people still only think of themselves."

"I didn't mean it like that," he said. "What about the people who care about you? How can you hurt them like that?"

"Do you honestly believe that those who are suicidal think people care about them? Many feel that they're helping those around them by taking their own lives." The conversation had started to disturb Draco.

"Why are you saying this?" he asked sternly.

"I read, Draco. I have opinions." But her gaze shifted away and he suspected there was more.

"That's it; you've just read about it?" Hermione sighed and hid her face in his chest.

"I've been as low as the next person," she said, her words muffled by her clenched fists. The effort it took for her to say this to him was visible in her downcast eyes and shaky breath. It felt weak to admit it.

He pulled her up and kissed her hard, pulling her body into his. "If you kill yourself, I'll have to do it too just to chase you down and bring you back. So save me the hassle and know that I need you and will be genuinely pissed off if you do it."

"Oh, Draco, no- I wasn't- it was a long time ago," she stammered.

"Shut up and take your clothes off."

* * *

PS does anyone know where I might be able to post original works for people to read? I was thinking I'd do it on my tumblr but I'd prefer to do it on a site made more for reading unpublished authors. If any of you want to read anything, though, by the way, just let me know. I have the first 3 chapters of two original works completed.


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